


Visible to Me

by I_K_Ros



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, Drunk Sex, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-03 11:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 121,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13340373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_K_Ros/pseuds/I_K_Ros
Summary: It's hard making a name for yourself when you've got a sibling that everyone loves, and you just don't quite measure up, so what happens when you meet someone who seems to be experiencing the exact same thing? When Gilbert and Matthew find each other, they discover they don't really need to be adored like their brothers, they just need someone who accepts them for them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older story that is still in progress, originally begun in June of 2013. The early chapters are from over four years ago, so please keep that in mind while reading. I'll be uploading the chapters frequently until I catch up to where the story is currently. If you'd like to read ahead, all chapters are available on my FF account under the same username.

Sulking, Gilbert wandered the sidewalks of the school’s campus, bored nearly to death. There was almost no one else outside since classes were currently in session, but the white-haired boy didn’t have class yet. Even if he did, he would have skipped it without batting an eye. It’s not like anyone would have noticed, anyway.

Red eyes lazily examined his surroundings as he walked, looking over the familiar buildings and landscaping. He was a junior this year, finally old enough to—legally—go out drinking with friends and party until he couldn’t even walk anymore. Partying had always been Gilbert’s favorite pastime, but now that he spent most of his time on his own, he hardly went out at all.

 _Zhis is so not awesome,_ he thought, dropping onto one of the stone benches dotted around campus and slouching back, hand reaching into his front pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. With practiced ease, he shook one out of the little paper box and caught it between his lips, holding it there as his free hand found his lighter and flicked it so a tiny flame burst to life. Inhaling, he held the fire to the end of the cigarette and took a drag as it lit. Nicotine rushed to his brain and some of his irritation melted away as the taste of the cigarette coated his tongue.

There was nothing like a smoke to put him in a better mood.

Still, he couldn’t help but scowl as other students began to pour out of the buildings, talking and laughing with each other. Gilbert caught sight of two males and his scowl deepened when he recognized them. One was a Spaniard called Antonio, the other a Frenchman named—laughably enough—Francis. They’d been his best friends, but that was a long time ago. They had their own cliques now, and Gilbert had himself, his pet bird, and his little brother. Speaking of which, there went the tall blond now, pale blue eyes locked on the small, bouncing youth at his side. The sight made Gilbert wrinkle his nose in disgust. How had his brother gotten stuck with a hyper-active kid like that? He didn’t even look old enough to be in college! Yet his brother, Ludwig, had become almost inseparable from the boy. So, really, it was just Gilbert and his bird.

The albino’s phone beeped to alert him that he had a class starting in fifteen minutes. World History, probably. At least, that was the class he _thought_ he had next, but he hadn’t bothered to check his schedule that morning, so he wasn’t sure.

_Eh, might as vell go._

Dropping his almost-finished cigarette and grinding it out with his shoe, the albino stood and made his way to the building where the social sciences were taught. No one looked at him as he stared straight ahead, shoulders hunched forward, hands jammed into his pockets. Gilbert didn’t bother trying to look friendly, and he certainly wasn’t going to waste his awesome self on the lame-o’s that went to this school. They weren’t worth his time. All he wanted was to pass his classes and graduate so he would finally be able to escape the shining sun that was his little brother.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love Ludwig. He did, as much as anyone would love their little brother, but the blond was so disgustingly _perfect_ that Gilbert couldn’t find a reason to try anymore. Even growing up, it was “Ludwig is so smart, he’ll be a doctor or a scientist one day,” or, “Look how strong our son is! Ludwig’s got the muscles of an ox,” and, “Could any parent ask for a more orderly, well-kept son than Ludwig?” Ugh. His parents absolutely fawned over his little brother, and Gilbert had resented it right from the start. So he wasn’t as tall as Ludwig, wasn’t as broad in the shoulder and his albinism was a bit frightening to some people, his grades weren’t as good and he wasn’t quite as clean as the blond. So what? That didn’t mean he wasn’t awesome, and if Gilbert was anything, he was awesome.

His scowl still in place, the moody college student dropped into a chair at the back of his World History class and waited for the rest of the students to show up so class could begin. God, he already wanted another cigarette, but then, he always smoked more when he was depressing himself with thoughts of his parents.

_I need to find a better outlet or all zhese cigarettes are going to kill me._

Lung cancer was definitely not awesome, but Gilbert was addicted to nicotine and he had yet to bother trying any of those so-called cures that were supposed to help a person quit in record time. Besides, he liked smoking. Smoking made him look almost as badass as he really was.

Sitting there, it occurred to the albino that he hadn’t brought his bag or any of his notebooks, so he wouldn’t be able to take notes on the lecture. A glance at the clock told him he didn’t have time to go back to his dorm and get them without being late.

_Fuck. I’ll get in trouble if I just sit here doing nozhing._

There had to be something he could do to avoid having points taken off his grade, and Gilbert quickly scanned the room in search of anything that might solve his problem. His gaze landed on a student he hadn’t noticed before, sitting in the farthest corner of the room, head bent over the desk. From here, Gilbert couldn’t be sure if it was a boy or a girl because of the long-ish wavy blond hair that was hiding the student’s face, and he or she was dressed in jeans and a red hoody, so it was impossible to judge by body shape.

“Hey,” Gilbert said, loudly enough for the other student to hear him but not loud enough to catch the attention of everyone else in the room. “Hey, red hoody.”

Startled, the blond looked up and around the room, and blue-violet eyes landed on Gilbert. “Yes?”

Ah, a boy. Gilbert did his best to look friendly in an attempt to win the stranger over. “Can I borrow a few sheets of paper and a pen? I forgot mine.”

The blond looked pleasantly surprised and nodded, quickly ripping several sheets of blank paper out of his notebook and standing. His footsteps seemed unsure as he brought them over to where Gilbert was sitting. “Here.” He handed over the paper and a perfectly sharpened pencil. “I’m Matthew, by the way. Matthew Williams.”

“Gilbert Beilschmidt.” The albino looked away from Matthew so he wouldn’t have to see the recognition at his last name. Just about everyone on this stupid campus recognized his last name because of Ludwig, and at first they were interested in meeting Gilbert, but once they learned how different he was from his younger brother, they lost interest. Gilbert hated it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Gilbert.”

What? The white-haired student looked up to see a genuine albeit shy smile on Matthew’s face and, to his surprise, felt himself smiling back. Not scowling, glaring, smirking or sneering. Just smiling. The kid had really cool eyes, a blue that was closer to being purple, and he had one curl that stuck out to the side of his face—Gilbert wanted to touch it, but refrained.

“Yeah…you, too…”

Matthew looked like he wanted to say something else, but at that moment the teacher walked in, so he just waved a little and returned to his desk.

The next hour and fifteen minutes of World History class was entirely lost on Gilbert even though he pretended to take notes and listen. He really had intended to use the borrowed paper and pencil to keep up with the lecture, but he found it entirely impossible to focus, especially with Matthew sitting only a few chairs away.

“Can anyone tell me which country the United States of America first went to war with after winning its independence from Great Britain?” the professor asked, brown eyes scanning the classroom. The only hand that went up was Matthew’s, but the teacher didn’t seem to notice him. “Anyone?”

 _He’s sitting right zhere, damn it. Just call on him._ For some reason, it bothered Gilbert that the professor was apparently ignoring Matthew even though no one else knew the answer.

“Excuse me, sir,” Matthew spoke up hesitantly, and the professor finally looked at him.

“Yes, mister…?”

“Matthew, sir. The answer is Canada.”

“Correct. Can you tell me why they went to war….?” The professor paused, searching for the name he had just been told and already forgotten.

The blond was even quieter this time. “Matthew. Because they wanted to prove to the world that they were powerful enough to win a war, and also to seize land from Canada.”

“Also correct, Marcus. Now, when—”

“Are you fucking serious?”

Every head in the room turned to stare at Gilbert, including the professor and Matthew, both of whom looked shocked that he had both interrupted class and cursed so loudly. The professor looked particularly indignant.

“Is there a problem, Mister Beilschmidt?” It was clear from the man’s tone and expression that he couldn’t believe Gilbert was related to one of the school’s star students.

“ _Ja,_ zhere’s a problem.” Gilbert glared back at the teacher with all the disdain he could muster. “You called him Marcus. His name is Matzhew, like he told you, _twice._ Are you deaf or just stupid?”

The teacher looked irritated as he locked eyes with the albino. “I teach over three hundred students a day, Mister Beilschmidt. I’m not going to remember the names of each and every student that comes into my classroom.”

“So you’re stupid.”

An angry red began taking over the man’s face. “Unless you want to fail this course, I’d suggest you either sit through the rest of the lecture without saying a single word, or you get out of my classroom and receive a mark of absence for today.”

“I’ll stay, _if_ you can remember his name,” Gilbert decided, lifting a pale hand and pointing to where Matthew was sitting. The blond looked terrified, as if he couldn’t believe he’d somehow been dragged into a fight between a teacher and a student and would have liked nothing better than to turn invisible to avoid all the eyes that were suddenly looking straight at him.

Gilbert could practically see the veins throbbing in the professor’s neck and face, much to his amusement. Some of the teachers around here got upset pretty easily, though being cursed at and insulted in front of a full classroom would probably bother even the calmest of professors.

Several moments of silence passed as the professor looked back and forth between Matthew and Gilbert. He clearly didn’t remember the blond’s name but didn’t want to admit it. Finally, he straightened to his full height and pointed at the door. “Out, Beilschmidt.”

With a shrug, the red-eyed college student gathered his papers and went to where Matthew was sitting. Matthew stared up at him with wide eyes, his glasses slipping down his nose adorably and that one curl bouncing ever so slightly as he moved. He looked partially terrified and partially grateful that Gilbert had bothered to stand up for him, even over something so trivial as a teacher forgetting his name.

“Zhanks for lending me your pencil,” Gilbert said loudly enough for the teacher to hear as he placed the writing utensil on the blond’s desk. Then he turned and left the classroom, grinning and winking cheekily at the professor just before the door closed.

 _Damn, zhat vas zhe most fun I’ve had in ages,_ he thought to himself, grinning as he leaned against the wall just outside the classroom door. There wasn’t that much time left for class, so he’d decided to wait and catch Matthew on his way out. He wanted to apologize for making the other boy the center of attention since the blond hadn’t looked at all comfortable with it, but he also wanted to get to know him better. Matthew was the first person in long, long time who hadn’t immediately asked about Ludwig upon hearing his last name. Gilbert loved his little brother, but was it so wrong to be sick and tired of hearing how great the tall German was?

When class finally ended and students began leaving the classroom, Gilbert waited until he spotted the already-familiar wavy blond hair before joining the stream and easily moving to Matthew’s side.

“Hey.”

The blond jumped, startled, and clutched at the strap of his bag for dear life before recognizing Gilbert. “O-oh, hi, Gilbert.”

It was hard not to grin. “Sorry about zhat, you know, making everyvone stare at you. It just bozhers me vhen people like him can’t bozher to remember somevone’s name.”

Matthew attempted to smile, though it looked a little strained. “Well, I’m used to it, I guess. People don’t tend to remember me or notice me very much.”

“Vhy not?”

“I’m too quiet, especially compared to my brother. No one ever forgets him.”

Ah, so Matthew was overshadowed by his brother, too. Well, at least that was something they had in common.

“Who’s your brozher?” Gilbert asked, wondering if he’d ever heard of him, though he didn’t recognize Matthew’s last name.

“Alfred Jones. He’s a senior.”

“Hm. Never heard of him.”

The blond looked surprised at this but didn’t comment on it as the two walked along the sidewalk.

“I zhought your last name vas Villiams, not Jones,” the albino pointed out in an attempt to make conversation.

“Alfred and I are only half brothers,” Matthew explained. “We have the same dad, but different moms. We grew up separately, and our parents decided to send us to the same college to try to get us to get to know each other, but it hasn’t really worked.”

“Vhy not?”

Matthew shrugged, twisting his hands on the strap of his bag in a nervous fashion. “He’s kind of loud and popular and goes out a lot, but I prefer the peace and quiet, so we don’t spend very much time together even though we’re roommates.”

That sounded extremely similar to Gilbert’s current situation with Ludwig, at least in respect to the fact that he shared a room with his own brother yet rarely spent time with him. “I know how you feel.”

“You do?”

“ _Ja._ My little _bruder_ goes here, and ve share a room, but I don’t see him very often. He...has more friends zhan I do.”

Nodding, the blond loosened his grip on his bag somewhat. They were quiet for a moment.

“So, vhere are you headed, Matzhew?”

“To the library to study.” He bit his lip, hesitating. “Do you, uh, wanna come with?”

The library? Lame. Gilbert usually considered himself to be too awesome to waste his time in the library, but he liked Matthew and was willing to put up with those stuffy old librarians to spend time with him.

“ _Ja,_ but I need my zhings from my dorm, first.”

Pleased with the response, Matthew smiled. “No problem. I’ll walk with you, if that’s okay.”

Gilbert nodded and changed direction, leading the slightly shorter blond towards the hall he and Ludwig lived in. When they got to the room, he made sure to knock before swiping his key and opening the door, and then he peeked in just to make sure his perfect baby brother wasn’t in there with that little brunet kid. Unfortunately, Gil had walked in on them once, which made him paranoid about going into his own dorm, but he tried to act as casual as possible upon entering the empty dorm and picking his bag up off the floor.

“Wow, it’s so clean in here,” Matthew commented, looking around curiously. “I thought college dorms were supposed to be super messy.”

Shrugging, Gilbert packed his books away into his bag. “Ludvig, my _bruder_ , and I vere raised by our _vater_ , our dad. He vas in zhe military, so ve vere taught to be very neat and orderly.”

Despite his words, the albino’s side of the room wasn’t quite as clean as Ludwig’s side. He wasn’t anal about keeping his bed perfectly made, and he didn’t organize his school books by size or title. His dirty clothes were piled in, on and around his hamper whereas Ludwig’s were all placed inside his hamper with the lid closed to hide them from view of guests.

Once he had all his books, he slung his bag over his shoulder and went back to where Matthew was waiting patiently by the door.

“Ready?” the blond asked, looking up at him with a shy smile, and Gilbert let himself smile back as he nodded.

“Lead zhe vay.”

Together, the albino and blond left the dorm hall and went to the library, stopping to buy smoothies at the small café in the lobby on their way to the study rooms in the basement. Gilbert let Matthew walk in front, since he didn’t actually know where they were going. He may have been a junior, but that didn’t mean he’d ever ventured into the library’s basement; he’d never even checked out a book before and only ever went to the library to print off papers or stop at the café.

Matthew, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly where he was going, and even hummed softly as he walked. It took Gilbert a second to recognize the tune.

“Is zhat zhe Canadian anzhem?”

The blond glanced back at him in surprise. “You know it?”

“ _Nein,_ but I’ve heard it often enough to know vhat it is. Vhy are you humming it?”

Dropping his bag on the floor, the blond sat on one of the lounge chairs set up in the study room he’d chosen, his legs tucked under him—Gilbert noticed for the first time that Matthew was actually on the petite side. “I grew up in Canada. Alfred was raised in the U.S. I’m only here on a schooling visa, so I’ll go back when I graduate. Sometimes I get a little homesick, but humming the anthem helps.”

Gilbert nodded in understanding as he sat in the chair next to Matthew’s. He and Ludwig had moved to America with their parents several years ago, but both brothers still had thick German accents and often slipped into their native tongue, especially when the words were similar. Though he was now an American citizen, he still missed Germany at times.

The two males moved at the same time to open their bags and retrieve their books. It was quiet as they studied, occasionally making comments to each other about the lessons or teachers, and Gilbert found that he enjoyed Matthew’s company immensely. Perhaps school wouldn’t be such a bore with the shy Canadian around.


	2. Chapter 2

The door was closed, the shades were up and the window was open to let fresh air into the room. This was vital because otherwise it would have reeked of dirty clothes, old food and a mixture of overly strong colognes. The source of these smells was the side of the dorm that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the semester began nearly three months ago. Clothes that desperately needed to be washed were thrown everywhere, old pizza crusts and dirty dishes sat precariously on stacks of books, clothes and pornographic magazines.

Such was the state of the dorm that Matthew shared with his older brother. Well, at least, that was the state of Alfred’s half. In contrast, Mat’s side was neat and clean, uncluttered by knick-knacks and devoid of anything dirty unless it was in the hamper. He didn’t mind the mess, exactly, as long as it stayed on Alfred’s side of the room. In no way did he hesitate to kick or throw anything of the American’s should it find its way across the invisible barrier going down the center of the floor. Matthew wasn’t aggressive or arrogant by any means, but he knew how to stand up for himself. For the most part.

Fortunately for him, Alfred had gone out with some friends the night before and had yet to return, which meant the quieter of the two roommates had a little bit of peace. He had to soak it up while it lasted, since he didn’t know when his half-brother and ever-present friends would return. Until then, he was content to sit in silence and read, comfortably curled up in his lofted bed.

The light breeze coming in through the window was enough to ruffle his hair but not to disturb that one stubborn curl, and it was pleasant on his bare feet, hands and face. Jeans and a red hoody with a white maple leaf on the front covered up the rest of him, and if he hadn’t been in his dorm, he would have been wearing socks and shoes, as well. That was how he was most comfortable, when his body was concealed in the folds of his slightly-too-big clothes and he could tuck his hands into his hoody pouch to protect them from the cold. Even though it was October and not particularly cold out yet, he couldn’t bring himself not to wear his hoody. It was one of the few things he had to remind him of home—it was, after all, the Canadian flag.

Sighing contently, Matthew turned onto his stomach and stretched out on his bed. It was very comfortable and he was just a little bit tired—for a moment, he considered taking a nap, but decided his book was much too interesting to be set aside for the sake of a little extra sleep. Besides, if he slept now, he’d never be able to fall asleep later when it was nighttime.

_Well, at least it’s quiet enough that I could go to sleep if I wanted to._

That was a comforting enough thought that Matthew once more settled down with his book to enjoy a day of relaxing and reading.

A few hours of this almost-perfect scenario went by before he heard it. Alfred’s loud, confident laughter proceeded the American and reached Matt’s ears several moments before his brother burst into the room, accompanied by several other males; Matthew subconsciously shrank back towards the wall, book held in front of his chest like a shield.

“Hey, Mattie!” Blue eyes shining and ash blond hair tousled from whatever he’d been up to since he left last night, Alfred climbed up the side of the loft with ease and half draped himself across the Canadian’s bed. “Watcha up to?”

“Um…reading…” Matthew still wasn’t used to his brother’s apparent lack of respect for personal space. The American was constantly getting too close for comfort whenever they were in the same room together, and while Matthew was usually content to chalk it up to cultural differences, sometimes he thought Alfred himself was incapable of sensing the mood.

Alfred made a face as he peered at the book. “It looks boring.”

The book in question, which Matthew had been reading all day, was called Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Won’t Stop Talking. It was, contrary to Alfred’s comment, very interesting and was actually doing quite a bit to improve Matthew’s self esteem. Essentially, it was a book by introverts about introverts for introverts. So far, he was enjoying it immensely.

“It’s actually really good.”

Shrugging, Alfred jumped down from the loft and landed on his feet as if he hadn’t just dropped several feet. His friends had already made themselves comfortable on his side of the room, sitting wherever there was space. He recognized all of the guests and knew each of their names—a stylish blond man called Francis, a tan, athletic brunet named Antonio, a shorter blond with eyebrows that were almost frightening who was named Arthur, an oriental man who went by Yao and a tall, imposing man who frightened Matthew a great deal and seemed even to unnerve his friends named Ivan.

Matt was used to them all being over almost constantly and had even picked up tidbits of information about what they did when they weren’t in the room eating and playing videogames. It would probably astonish them to hear how much he knew, especially since they probably didn’t know anything about him except that his name was Matthew, he was Alfred’s younger half-brother and was from Canada. He may have been quiet and reserved whenever they were around, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t listening. Matthew knew a lot more than most people realized.

Within moments of the blue-eyed blond jumping down from the loft, Alfred and his friends had turned on the X-Box to play some violent, garishly loud videogame and were creating so much noise that Matt almost had to put his hands over his ears. He sighed inwardly and closed the book after carefully marking his page.

_Guess I’m going to the library._

The other people in his room didn’t show any signs of noticing as Matthew gathered his things, put on his shoes and left—he could hear them shouting all the way to the elevator, just like usual. After he’d stepped inside and hit the button to go down to the lobby, he took his phone from his pocket and opened a new message, then hesitated. He wanted to text Gilbert—the albino had been friendly enough to give Matt his number—but he was nervous. Gilbert was the first friend he’d managed to make since moving to America for school. He didn’t want to ruin it by smothering the other male.

A _ding_ sounded to let him know that he’d reached the lobby, and Matthew headed out of the dorm hall and straight towards the library. The idea of studying on his own for the rest of the day was a familiar one, though he wasn’t particularly attracted to it. Having Gilbert there for company the other day had been pleasant, and he would much rather spend time with the albino than be on his own. Still, he hesitated to text the older boy. What if Gilbert thought he was annoying and didn’t want to be his friend anymore? They had only just met the day before yesterday.

But then again, he could hardly call Gilbert a friend if he was afraid to text him.

X

Gilbert made soft clucking noises as he offered a sunflower seed minus the shell to his best friend—Gilbird. An awesome name for an awesome bird, who of course belonged to The Awesome Gilbert. Gilbird chirped and ate the seed, fluffing his feathers happily as his head was stroked by a single gentle finger.

“Zhat’s my awesome little buddy,” Gilbert crooned, continuing to pet the small yellow bird. “Are you enjoying your time outside your cage?”

The bird whistled and hopped about on the surface of Gilbert’s desk, looking around curiously. This was the first time he’d been let out of the cage hanging from the ceiling since Gilbert had snuck him into the dorm at the beginning of the school year. Students weren’t allowed to have pets other than fish, but the thought of leaving Gilbird at home wasn’t even worthy of Gilbert’s attention. Despite Ludwig’s threats to turn him in—the blond was always such a pussy when it came to breaking the rules—he’d managed to smuggle his friend into the dorm and had kept him hidden ever since, just like he’d done the last two years.

_“Hey, you got a message! Bet it’s from someone sexy~”_ Gilbert’s phone suddenly sang, startling the man and sending Gilbird straight into his cage for refuge with a squawk.

_Who the fuck is texting me on a Sunday?_

Frowning irritably, Gilbert snatched his phone from where he’d tossed it onto his bed and saw that he had a new message from an unknown number. That got him curious enough to lessen some of his annoyance, and he clicked the message open.

_} Are you busy?_

Such a generic question, and with absolutely no clue as to who the text was from. Maybe it was one of his old friends looking to hang out and catch up, but Gilbert couldn’t think of any that he would actually want to see. On the off chance it was someone he might be willing to spend time with, he sent a fairly neutral response.

_{ That depends on who this is._

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

_} Oh, sorry! It’s Matthew._

Gilbert could almost see that flustered look the blond got whenever he thought he’d made a mistake and apologized—it was surprisingly cute. He stored the number under “Matt W.” before typing his response.

_{ Hey, no, I’m not busy. What’s up?_

_} I was wondering if you wanted to come hang out in the library with me._

Not the library _again._ Didn’t the blond spend time anywhere else?

_{ Not really._

After he sent it, Gilbert realized he maybe could have put a little bit more into the text, such as suggesting they meet somewhere else than the library.

_} Oh, okay._

Now he could just about hear the disappointment in the Canadian’s tone and pictured the way Matthew’s shoulders had probably sagged when his offer was rejected—he took the opportunity to do what he should have done with his previous message.

_{ Why don’t you just come to my room, instead?_

There, that sounded inviting enough for Matthew to know it was the library, not him, that Gilbert was opposed to.

_} Okay! I think I remember where it is—I’ll be there in a few minutes._

Gilbert chuckled as he typed his reply of “okay” and put his phone down again. Something about the shy Canadian made him…happy. He just couldn’t be angry at the world while the blond was around, and he rather liked it.

“You’re going to meet my new friend, Gilbird,” he told the feathery creature, holding his hand out to entice the bird out of its cage; Gilbird cautiously flew down and landed on his fingers, clinging to them with his small feet. “His name’s Matzhew, and he’s pretty awesome even zhough he’s quiet. You’ll like him.”

Gilbird chirped again then went back to exploring the dorm as the albino student lounged on his bed and watched. Today was shaping up to be a pretty good day.

A quiet knocking several minutes later told them that Matt had arrived—Gilbert barely managed to catch the sound and went to open the door.

“You know, you’re _supposed_ to make a bit of noise vhen trying to get someone’s attention,” he teased lightly, grinning down at the Canadian.

Matthew blushed a little, his arms wrapped around several books held to his chest. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

“No problem,” Gilbert stepped to the side and held the door open for his shy new friend. “Vhy vere you going to zhe library, anyvay?”

Looking around curiously because he hadn’t seen much of the room the last time he’d been there, Matt shrugged and sat in Gilbert’s desk chair. “My brother has a bunch of friends over and I didn’t want to be in their way.”

“Zhey didn’t vant you to hang out vizh zhem? Not even your _bruder?_ ”

The Canadian shifted and looked away as if the question made him uncomfortable. “No…uh…Alfred and I…have different interests.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence filled the dorm until Gilbert grinned. “Can you keep a secret?”

Violet-blue eyes widened and Matthew nodded, his interest peaked by the taller boy’s tone. He watched as Gilbert got up and went to something hanging in the corner that Matt hadn’t noticed before—probably because it was mostly covered by a white cloth. The older boy fiddled with something and murmured quietly before turning around.

“Ta-da!”

Perched on his finger was a small yellow bird that cocked its head and peered at Matt curiously, chirping.

“Oh,” Matt sighed, instantly infatuated with the creature, “he’s adorable.”

Gilbird puffed out his feathers and moved side to side on his owner’s paler-than-normal finger as if showing off, and Matthew giggled, his hand covering his mouth to stifle the already-quiet sound. Even though it was sort of odd to hear a boy giggle—other than that annoying little brunet—Gilbert didn’t mind. It was a nice sound, not as high-pitched as the brunet’s and softer. It was…cute.

Smiling, the albino carried his still-strutting bird over to the desk. “Hold out your hand.”

Matthew shyly did as he was told, and smiled when Gilbird hopped from Gilbert’s hand to his own. The bird whistled and Matt lifted him up so they were eye-to-eye. “Hello. My name’s Matthew.”

“His name is Gilbird.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Gilbird. I like your name,” Matthew told the yellow bird, and Gilbird wasted no time in launching himself off Matt’s finger and instead settling on his shoulder, against his neck just below his ear; he nuzzled his head against the Canadian’s pale skin. Matt giggled again. “His feathers tickle.”

“He likes you,” Gilbert informed him, smiling as well. It wasn’t often that Gilbird liked or approved of the people that came into his master’s dorm, so the fact that he’d so quickly taken to Matthew was pleasing.

“Really?”

“ _Ja._ He’s very picky about his friends, so you must be very special for him to like you so quickly.”

A blush spread over Matthew’s face and he looked down at his books, which he was now holding in his lap. “I’m not special.”

_He actually believes that,_ Gilbert suddenly realized as he looked at the blond. It upset him to think that Matthew didn’t have enough self esteem even to accept a compliment about being liked by a bird. He didn’t know what to say. He _wanted_ to tell Matthew that of course he was special, that being quiet and shy didn’t mean he was somehow less than people who were loud. He didn’t, though. It was only the second time he’d hung out with Canadian, and he didn’t want to get weighed down by such a serious topic.

“Sure you are,” he replied, flopping down onto his bed with a grin. “Zhe Awesome Me isn’t friends vizh people zhat aren’t awesome, too.”

The look on Matthew’s face said he didn’t believe Gilbert even a little bit and was even somewhat afraid. Gilbert thought he could practically hear what the Canadian was thinking.

What if Gilbert didn’t want to be his friend anymore because he wasn’t awesome enough? He would be alone again, forgotten like always.

Gilbert wasn’t about to let that happen. He liked Matt. He had no intentions of letting go of his new friend just because the Canadian was shy.

“So, vhat books did you bring?”

“Homework.”

“Do you do anyzhing ozher zhan homevork?”

Matthew paused as if he didn’t understand the question. “What else would I do? I have to keep my grades up or I’ll get deported.”

“You mean you don’t do anyzhing fun?” The prospect astounded and horrified Gilbert—if Matthew never did anything but homework, he was going to have his work cut out for him.

“I read.”

Red eyes were dull with disbelief. “You read.”

“And go for walks.”

“Is zhat all?”

Nearly transparent eyelashes lowered to hide Matthew’s eyes and he held his books to his chest again. “You think I’m boring,” he said, even quieter than usual, and Gilbert could tell he’d managed to upset the younger student even without meaning to.

“ _Nein,_ I just vondered if you vere in any clubs or liked to play sports.”

“No, I was…that’s…Alfred’s thing.” His tone was almost one of defeat, as if he’d tried to join clubs and participate in campus sports but had been outshone by his brother and given up.

_He’s so insecure about himself. Anyzhing zhat might draw attention to him is “Alfred’s Zhing” und he buries himself in his books._

That, Gilbert decided, was something he was going to have to put a stop to. If it was the only productive thing he did this entire school year, he was going to build up Matthew’s self esteem until there was no such thing as “Alfred’s Thing.” There would just be Matt and whatever he wanted to do, and then he would believe it when Gilbert told him he was special.

“Vell, vhy don’t ve go for a valk, zhen?” he asked, hoping to lighten the mood and put the Canadian in better spirits.

Instantly, Mat’s face lit up and he nodded, setting his books on Gilbert’s desk with great care. Without any sort of command or cue, Gilbird flew from his shoulder and into his cage, where he tucked his head under his wing in preparation for a nap.

“Bye, Gilbird,” Matthew whispered as he and Gilbert left the dorm. “Sweet dreams.”

Gilbert locked the door behind them and the two males started off down the hall. There was a slight spring in the blond’s step as they left the dorm hall, and Gilbert couldn’t help the grin he could feel tugging at his mouth.

Whether he believed it or not, there was definitely something special about Matthew Williams.


	3. Chapter 3

“I need zhe room tonight.”

Gilbert didn’t bother looking up from his videogame; Gilbird was perched on his shoulder where he could see the screen. “Vhat for?”

Blond hair slicked back neatly above pale blue eyes, Ludwig crossed his arms over his chest and turned to look at his older brother. “It’s my vone year anniversary vizh Feliciano tonight.”

The implications behind that statement made Gilbert just about drop his controller and he leapt to his feet, whirling to face the blond. Gilbird’s small talons dug into his t-shirt so he wouldn’t be thrown off and he whistled irritably before flying to the safety of his cage to avoid the argument that was about to take place. “You are _not_ having sex vizh zhat kid in our dorm!”

“Vhat I do vizh _mien_ boyfriend is none of your concern, Gilbert,” the taller but younger brother replied calmly.

“Fuck you, Ludvig! I live here, too, and I refuse to sleep in a dorm tainted vizh your _lovemaking._ ” The last word had a disgusted tone attached to it, as if the act of making love was dirty and unwholesome and not something that should be discussed in broad daylight.

Ludwig rolled his eyes. “I’m not _tainting_ anyzhing. Except Feliciano,” he added as an afterthought, making Gilbert want to gag.

“I don’t understand your attraction to zhat kid,” he muttered, dropping back into his chair and picking up the controller to his game once more.

“He’s zhe same age as me, Gilbert. He’s not a kid.”

“Yeah, vell, he looks like a preteen.”

“Is zhat supposed to be an insult?”

“ _Ja._ ”

“I happen to _like_ the vay he looks, you know. I vouldn’t be dating him, ozhervise,” Ludwig pointed out as if that would make a difference to the albino that was trying to ignore him. He sighed. “Just make sure you have somevhere else to be tonight.”

The blond left the room and Gilbert waited for the door to click closed before pausing his game and setting down the controller with a sigh. Even though he’d argued, he and Ludwig both knew the albino would make himself scarce the moment there was even a hint of Feliciano’s presence in the dorm. It wasn’t anything the little brunet did or said that sent Gilbert on his way—he didn’t even dislike the kid nearly as much as he claimed. Mostly, he saw in Feliciano the culmination of how everyone else treated Ludwig: like he was a gift straight from god himself. The kid hung on Ludwig’s every word, though he was ditzy and occasionally got distracted. His goal in life was to please the blond German and Ludwig treated Feliciano the same way, though admittedly he was subtler about it. They were just so disgustingly _in love_ that Gilbert couldn’t even stand it. And if tonight was their anniversary…

“Looks like I’m going drinking,” he announced to the empty dorm room. A chirping sound from the corner was the only answer, and Gilbert looked to where Gilbird was watching him from his cage. “Vhat am I going to do vizh you? I can’t leave you here to vitness Ludvig and Feliciano’s anniversary—your poor little eyes vould burn and you vould be traumatized forever.”

Gilbird whistled in apparent agreement and Gilbert looked out the window to see that the sun was starting to set. That meant Ludwig and Feliciano would be arriving before long, and Gilbert didn’t want to be there when they did.

“Come on, Gilbird.” He held his hand out and the yellow creature fluttered down to perch on his fingers. “Ve’re going to visit our new friend.” Moving quickly, the albino donned his coat and shoes then made sure Gilbird was comfortable in his hiding place inside the coat’s collar. Then he shut off his game, made sure the door was locked, and left, flicking the light switch on his way out.

By the time he reached the elevator, he had his phone out and was halfway through the text message he decided he should probably send.

_{Hey, Matt. You busy tonight?_

_}Nope. Did you want to meet up somewhere?_

_{I was actually hoping I could come over to your dorm tonight._

_}Sure, I live in Anderson hall. I’ll meet you in the lobby._

_{Cool, be there in a few._

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Gilbert stopped outside the doors to the lobby of Anderson and retrieved a cigarette so he could have a quick smoke before going inside. The red glow light up his face just barely, making him look rather frightening in the shadows—his white hair and red eyes only increased this, and he received several nervous glances from students passing by. Not that he cared. When the cigarette had burned down to the filter, he dropped it, ground it out with the heel of his boot, made sure Gilbird was okay, then let himself into Anderson hall.

Just as he’d said, Matthew was sitting on one of the couches in the lobby, waiting, though his back was to Gilbert so he didn’t see the albino right away. Smirking to himself, Gilbert quietly walked up behind the blond then leaned down to blow lightly on the back of his neck where a bit of pale skin was showing under his hair. Matthew squeaked rather loudly, drawing the attention of the few other students in the lobby, and hunched his shoulders all the way up to his ears before sliding down the couch a little bit as if he’d gone limp. Gilbert couldn’t help but laugh and stepped around the couch to grin down at the Canadian.

“Sup, Matt?”

“Gilbert!” Matthew’s ears were red and he was blushing behind his glasses, and despite being clearly upset on some level, he was just as quiet as always. “Why’d you do that?!”

The albino shrugged, still grinning. “Couldn’t resist. Zhough I didn’t expect you to react quite so strongly. Vhy did you squeak like zhat?”

Matthew’s face turned even redder and he fidgeted as if resisting the urge to yank his hoody up over his face in an attempt to hide. Gilbert could just imagine how stupidly cute that would be, though he was quick to dispel the thought because Gilbert was too awesome for cutesy thoughts like that one.

“My neck is a little sensitive,” Matthew mumbled softly, looking down at his lap and fidgeting even more than before.

The grin on Gilbert’s face grew and he leaned closer to the blond, bracing one hand on the armrest of the couch and the other on the cushion to the side of the Canadian’s legs, effectively trapping the shorter boy. Matthew shrank back as far as the couch would allow but Gilbert continued leaning closer until their noses were almost touching, and then he oh-so-slowly licked his lip.

“Really? Vas zhat… _arousing_ to you, Matzhew?” he whispered seductively, and Matthew’s eyes widened so far that Gilbert was almost worried they would fall out of the Canadian’s face (even though he knew that wasn’t possible). His ears were as dark as the hoody he always wore and he was trembling visibly, that one unruly curl shaking as if they were in the middle of a large earthquake.

“U-um…I…I…”

Damn, this kid was cute when he was flustered. Gilbert found himself smiling fondly as the blond attempted to come up with a suitable answer, though he remained where he was, gazes locked with the younger boy. When Matthew finally whimpered and fell silent, giving up, he laughed and straightened.

“Relax, Matt. I’m just teasing you.”

Matthew stared up at him, expression going from helpless to surprised to hurt in a matter of seconds; he looked like he might burst into tears at any moment, and Gilbert felt a sliver of panic worm its way into his thoughts.

“Shit, Matt, seriously, don’t look at me like zhat.”

There were tears gathering under the Canadian’s eyes. Gilbert didn’t know what to do. He hadn’t meant to upset the blond, just goof around a little! Maybe he’d gone too far—Antonio and Francis used to tell him that he needed to learn when to stop, though he hadn’t paid much attention to those comments. Maybe they were right. Maybe he’d pushed Matt too far.

Unable to come up with anything else, he dropped onto the couch next to Matt and pulled the other boy into a hug, one hand on the back of his head and the other on the small of his back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. It vas totally not awesome of me and I promise to never do it again.” He felt a small amount of relief when hands latched onto the sides of his coat and Matthew pressed his face into his shoulder.

“I-It’s okay,” came the mumbled response after a few moments of silence had passed. “I’m just n-not used to things like th-that.”

Gilbert smiled and rubbed his friend’s back comfortingly. “I’ll keep zhat in mind. Now, if you are ready to go up to your room, I have a surprise.”

That seemed to cheer the blond up right away, and he pulled out of the embrace with a weak smile, nodding. “Okay.”

Proud of himself for avoiding that crisis, Gilbert stood and straightened his jacket before following the shorter student to the elevator. They were quiet all the way to Matthew’s room, though once they were inside, Matt seemed to grow uncomfortable again.

“Sorry about the mess…” he mumbled, glancing at the disaster that was Alfred’s half of the room. It was obvious that he thought Gilbert would be disgusted by it and want to leave, but the albino just shrugged. “Your brozher looks like a real slob.”

“Yeah.” Matthew paused as if realizing what he’d just said. “I mean, he isn’t here a lot, so he doesn’t really have time to clean.”

“It looks like he doesn’t have time for vashing his clozhing, eizher,” the older boy commented, noting the piles of dirty laundry; he wrinkled his nose as the smell hit him. “Zhat’s awful.”

Matthew smiled nervously and went to open the window so they could have a bit of fresh air. “We’ll just stay on my side of the room.”

“Good idea.”

Together, they climbed up into Matt’s lofted bed and settled comfortably, shoulders almost but not quite touching.

“So, what’s the surprise?” Matthew asked, and Gilbert wondered if the Canadian was a lot more excited than he was acting—his patient tone was a little _too_ patient.

“Hold on.” Carefully, he shrugged out of his coat and set it aside, fiddling with something Matthew couldn’t see, then brought his hands back in front of himself with something small, yellow, and soft cupped in them. “Ta da!”

“Gilbird!” At Matthew’s exclamation, the bird looked up at him with beady black eyes and chirped happily before abandoning Gilbert in favor of nestling against the Canadian’s neck. Matt giggled softly then stroked the bird’s head with one finger. “Hi, little buddy.”

“I had to get him out of zhe dorm,” Gilbert explained, smiling as he watched his best friend and newest friend bond. “My brozher and his boyfriend are having zheir vone year anniversary tonight, and I didn’t vant Gilbird to see anyzhing he shouldn’t.”

“Is that why you asked to come over? They didn’t want you around?”

“ _Ja,_ not zhat I vant to be around zhem, anyvay. Zhey are so cutesy it’s almost gross. Besides, it vas a good excuse to come see you.”

A pleased blush colored Matthew’s cheeks and he focused on Gilbird to pretend the comment didn’t make him as happy as it did. “You can come over any time.”

“ _Danke,_ Matzhew.”

“So, your brother, he likes boys?”

“ _Ja,_ zhough I do not understand his choice for his current boyfriend. Zhe kid is nice I suppose, but I zhought Ludvig would go for someone smarter.” That wasn’t entirely fair of him to say—Feliciano was by no means stupid, he was just careless and carefree, so he seemed a great deal less intelligent than he was.

“Oh. What about you?”

“Vhat about me?”

The blond looked away almost shyly. “Do you like boys or girls?”

Gilbert laughed. “I like sexy. Vhezher it’s a boy or a girl doesn’t matter.”

“What do you consider sexy?”

After considering the question for a moment, Gilbert shrugged. “Lots of things are sexy. Sometimes it depends on zhe person—vhezher zhey can pull it off or not. _Mein bruder_ is called sexy because he has big muscles and piercing eyes, and Americans like his accent. I don’t go for big muscles. I like people shorter zhan me and fit, but not bulky. Girls have to have good curves. You, for example, are very cute, but not vhat I vould consider sexy.”

Matthew blinked several times, a surprised expression plastered to his face. “Cute?”

“ _Ja._ Has no vone ever told you zhat before?”

“N-no.” Fidgeting again, the Canadian cast his gaze around the room for a change of topic. “So, uh, what d’you wanna do?”

With another shrug, Gilbert settled a little more comfortably on Matthew’s bed. “Normally, if I vas alone vizh someone in zheir room and ve vere sitting on zheir bed, I vould be zhere to have sex or at least make out, but I don’t zhink zhat is going to happen.” He laughed, not noticing the almost-frightened way Matthew stared at him.

“You sound like you hook up a lot.”

“ _Nein,_ not anymore. It gets boring after a vhile, so I quit going to parties and such last year.” He looked up at the other boy, red eyes meeting violet. “Besides, I like you too much to use you for a hook up.”

Not sure if that was really a compliment, Matthew struggled to come up with a response and eventually gave up, settling for petting Gilbird instead. The two college boys had been sitting in companionable silence for several minutes when loud, raucous laughter reached them from down the hall.

Matthew groaned, his eyes falling shut. “Oh, no.”

“Vhat, vhat is it?”

“My brother.”

The words had barely left his mouth when the door opened with enough force for it to bang loudly off the wall, almost slamming closed again before the person on the other side could step into the room.

“Hey, Mattie! Just stopping in to—hey, who’s your friend?”

Matthew’s brother, who Gilbert remembered was called Alfred, looked up at him with curious, deep blue eyes. He also wore glasses, though not the same style as Matthew, and his blond hair was cut short with a bit that stuck up funny in the front. He was also grinning, displaying a set of perfect white teeth.

“This is Gilbert,” Matt introduced him quietly. “Gilbert, this is my half-brother, Alfred.”

“Nice ta meet’cha!” Alfred thrust his hand up where Gilbert could reach and they shook.

“Same.”

Blue eyes locked onto Matthew once more. “Anyways, I’m just gonna take a quick shower then go out with the guys, so I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

In a flurry of movement, Alfred gathered his shower things—though how he managed to locate them in that mess was beyond Gilbert’s comprehension—then left. His friends stayed behind, placing themselves strategically among the mountains of trash and laundry. They were all looking up at Gilbert and Matthew curiously because the shy blond had never had a friend over before and they were all wondering who this strange white-haired boy was.

“Okay, I know I’m awesome, but you don’t have to stare,” Gilbert said after the silent staring had gone on for a few minutes.

Francis rolled his eyes and Antonio grinned. “Cocky as ever, Gilbert.”

“Still a priss,” the albino shot back, and Antonio laughed.

“You know each other?” Matthew cut in, looking between Gilbert and the two boys sitting on Alfred’s side of the room.

“Unfortunately,” Gilbert replied, throwing a rather nasty look at his former friends. “Zhose two used to have zhe privilege of calling me zheir friend, but zhey couldn’t handle how awesome I am.”

“Don’t lie to zee poor boy, Gilbert,” Francis admonished, then smiled at Matthew. “Gilbert ‘ere has zee biggest ego on zee planet. Antonio and I were going crazy just trying to put up wizh ‘im.”

That made Matthew giggle a little, and he cast an apologetic glance at Gilbert, but the albino wasn’t looking at him.

“At least I didn’t get a girl pregnant my freshman year, Francis.”

A round of “oooohs” went around Alfred’s friends and Francis glared up at Gilbert. “You’re only bringing zhat up because you’re jealous zhat zee girls found me more attractive zhan zhey did you.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Most of zhem zhought you vere gay until you tried to kiss zhem! And I don’t blame zhem for zhinking zhat.”

Huffing angrily, Francis turned away as if dismissing the conversation entirely. Gilbert leaned over to whisper into Matthew’s ear.

“And _zhat_ is vhy I call him a priss.”

The Canadian pressed a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. He had to admit, Francis’ behavior _was_ a bit on the prissy side, and he couldn’t deny that the man looked like he was gay. Luckily, Alfred returned from his shower mere moments later and dressed before leaving with his friends in tow; Matthew sagged against the wall in relief.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever been involved in a conversation with them.” It hadn’t even been his conversation, and it was still the most direct interaction he’d had with his brother’s friends since the time Alfred had introduced him to them.

“I vouldn’t vaste my time trying to talk to Francis or Antonio. Francis is a playboy prick and Antonio is a control freak.”

“Really?”

“ _Ja._ Vhen I vould go out vizh zhem, Francis hooked up vizh at least four people a night. Antonio acts very happy and carefree until somezhing he vants doesn’t go his vay, and zhen he gets very aggressive and manipulative.”

“Oh.” Matthew had never realized the happy-looking brunet might have a dark side, but then, most people were pretty good at hiding their faults, and his only encounters with Antonio had taken place in his dorm because of Alfred. “Is that why you’re not friends with them anymore?”

“ _Nein._ I vas villing to put up vizh all zhat, but zhen vone day zhey told me zhat zhey could not be seen vizh me anymore, and zhat vas it. Ve haven’t gotten along since.”

“That’s awful,” Matthew sympathized. He couldn’t imagine just up and dropping a friend, especially Gilbert. The albino was fun and Matt really liked him, so the animosity between him and Francis seemed unnatural. “Well, I won’t do that to you. I promise.”

Gilbert smiled a little. “ _Danke,_ Matzhew.”

“You’re welcome, Gilbert.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sighing quietly, Matthew watched his brother walking away from his vantage point at the window of their dorm. It was Friday afternoon and the blue-eyed blond was going home for the weekend to spend time his mother and their father. Matt wasn’t invited, not that he’d wanted to go. He thought it would be a bit uncomfortable to meet his father’s wife, especially considering he’d been born from an affair. Alfred’s mom probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him. The only reason he was even in America was because their dad didn’t want his kids to grow up completely separated. At least he was making an effort to be a father to Matthew.

When Alfred finally disappeared from view, Matt turned away from the window and surveyed their dorm. The mess on Alfred’s side had managed to grow and the Canadian was pretty sure it was going to develop its own conscious mind soon, and then it would only be a matter of time before it became independently mobile.

_Alfred’s going to lie on his bed one day and be consumed by his own filth,_ Matthew decided, then grinned to himself. That wouldn’t be all bad, when he thought about it. If Alfred was gone, then he could clean up the mess and have the room to himself. Though he’d probably find the loud American during the cleaning process. Maybe Alfred would be so shaken up, he’d drop out and move home.

_No, don’t think that way,_ he scolded himself. _He’s your brother._

Half brother. The one he hadn’t even known about until his father called his mother one day to tell her he wanted Matthew to come to school in America. That had been the first time either of them had ever heard of Alfred—Matt’s mom hadn’t even known their dad was married until then. That day had been an eye-opener for them both. Matt remembered that conversation perfectly. His mother had been so upset she’d started crying and mumbling in French, and she had said that he would absolutely not be going to America. But they’d been having money troubles lately, and Matt had talked her into agreeing to it, just so he could go to college without worrying about loans or debt. And Alfred was a lot nicer than he’d been expecting. That, at least, was something.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel extremely homesick. He missed his little house and his mom, having homemade pancakes with maple syrup for breakfast every day.

Matthew gathered up the fabric of his red hoody and buried his face in it, breathing deeply to catch that scent of home. It helped him relax, and then he didn’t feel quite so far from home. He was still like that when someone knocked at the door.

“Yo, Matt! Open up! I know you’re in zhere!”

A smile spread across the Canadian’s face when he heard the familiar accent and he went to open the door, hoody still pressed over his mouth and nose.

Gilbert grinned as the door opened to reveal the younger blond. “Vhat are you doing?”

“Smelling.” The word was muffled but understandable and Gilbert laughed.

“You’re veird, you know zhat?”

Shrugging happily, Matthew straightened his hoody and smiled back. “Are you going home, too?”

“ _Ja,_ but,” the albino’s voice dropped to a whisper and Matt leaned in to hear, “I need a favor.”

“What is it?” he whispered back, glancing past Gilbert to look down the hall as if someone might be listening.

Gilbert stepped inside the dorm, gently pulling Matt along with him, and closed the door. For the first time, Matthew realized that the older boy was carrying something rather large that was covered in a cloth. “I need you to take care of _mien_ little friend.” With that, he removed the cloth and Matthew almost squealed.

“Gilbird!” Immediately, he was crouching so his face was level with the cage Gilbert was holding as he cooed at the small yellow bird. Gilbert whistled and preened, clearly showing off for his admirer. Blue-violet eyes looked up at Gilbert after a few moments. “You’re really letting me take care of him while you’re gone?”

“Vell, _ja,_ vhy not? He likes you, I like you, you like us. It’s not complicated.”

Matt blushed lightly and straightened. “I’d be glad to watch him until you get back.”

“Great. Vhere do you vant zhe cage?”

“Ummm,” Matthew cast his gaze around the room for a suitable place, “on my desk is fine.”

Carefully, Gilbert set the cage on the desk then gave its inhabitant a stern look. “You behave yourself for Matzhew, Gilbird. I don’t vant to come back and find zhat you’ve caused him trouble. _Verstehen Sie?_ ”

Chirping happily, Gilbird fluttered his wings then cocked his head, peering around the dorm room since he’d never seen it from this angle before.

“What did you say to him, at the end?” Matt asked, curious about the little bit of German he’d heard.

Gilbert grinned as he straightened. “I just asked him if he understood what I was telling him.”

“Oh. Versten sie?” He struggled to pronounce it correctly.

“ _Verstehen Sie,_ ” Gilbert corrected, thinking that Matthew’s attempt at speaking German was one of the most adorable things he’d ever heard.

“ _Verstehen Sie,_ ” the Canadian tried again, and Gilbert nodded.

“ _Ja._ It means ‘understand?’”

Matthew smiled a little, proud that he’d gotten it right. “Cool.”

Chuckling, Gilbert ruffled the blond’s hair, his hand disturbing the curl. “You’ll learn German in no time.” He didn’t notice the way Matt’s cheeks turned pink or that he’d reached out to hold onto the desk so his knees wouldn’t give as he turned to look at Gilbird one last time. “I’ll see you on Sunday, _mien_ awesome little buddy,” he cooed, then faced Matthew again with his usual relaxed grin.

Luckily, Matt had regained control of himself after the accidental curl-touch, though his cheeks were still a little pinker than normal. “Have a good weekend.”

“ _Ja,_ you, too. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

Unexpectedly, he found himself wrapped in the shorter boy’s arms as Matthew hugged him goodbye. It was a bit awkward—he’d never been much of a hugging person—but after a moment he gave the blond’s shoulders a gentle hug in return, an odd warm feeling taking root in his stomach.

“Bye, Gil.” Matt smiled at him as he pulled out of the hug, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoody, which were so long his fingertips just poked out.

_Damn, he really_ is cute. “ _Auf wiedersehen,_ Matzhew.” Then he was gone, and it was just Matthew and Gilbird for the whole weekend.

A sigh of relief burst from Matt the moment the door closed, and he collapsed into his desk chair, looking at Gilbird. “That was close,” he told the bird as Gilbird chirped, hopping around on the few little bars he had. There was also a swing at the top of the cage, and Matthew could imagine how absolutely adorable it would be for Gilbird to perch on it so that the little bell hanging underneath it jingled.

“If I give you a treat, will you do that so I can take a picture?” Matt asked, then paused to realize he was talking to a bird as if the yellow creature would actually respond. Perhaps he’d been spending too much time around Gilbert. No, that couldn’t be right. He’d only met the older boy a couple of weeks ago, and they’d hung out…eight times since then? Or was it more? It definitely wasn’t every day, so he hadn’t been hanging out with the albino too much. Besides, as long as neither of them minded, it didn’t matter how much time they spent together.

Matthew shook his head then let his gaze slide over to the mess that was Alfred’s half of the room, contemplating it again. Irritation sparked as he remembered his half brother’s parting words.

_Clean this up for me, will you? Thanks!_

As if he’d been talking about a spilled bag of chips or something little. But the mess he’d been creating since day one of the semester? It was ridiculous! And he hadn’t offered to make it up to Matt in any way! Why should he expect Matthew to do it?

_But the room will be so much nicer if I do…it won’t smell anymore, and I won’t be embarrassed to invite Gilbert over._

Maybe he _should_ clean it up. It was mostly stuff to be thrown away and dirty laundry anyway, right? And he knew where Alfred kept his quarters for the laundry machines down the hall, so he wouldn’t have to use his own money for it. And if he did it right away, he could enjoy it for the whole weekend before Alfred came back and started making a new mess.

_It’s not my responsibility. I shouldn’t have to clean up after him just to be able to enjoy my room._

But Alfred would never clean it up on his own. He was too busy partying and more or less being one of the most popular guys in school.

_He’s an adult, even older than me! He should be able to take care of his own messes!_

That wasn’t going to happen, and Matthew knew it. If he didn’t clean it up, the mess would just keep growing until it started overflowing onto his half. The thought of that filth on his side of the room spurred Matthew into action. He was going to clean up Alfred’s side of the room.

First, he grabbed the box of trashbags he had stored under the sink and unrolled one, then put on his rubber gloves—no way was he actually touching any of that disgusting slop. As he began gathering up the old food and McDonalds wrappers strewn everywhere, he decided the rubber gloves weren’t going to be enough protection. The stench was making him gag every time he dared to move something, so he fetched one of his thinner scarves and wrapped it around his head, covering his nose and mouth; he would just wash it when he did his own laundry this weekend, and he was definitely going to shower after this.

Four hours later, he’d filled three trashbags and had managed to fit most of Alfred’s dirty clothes in the bespectacled boy’s hamper. He’d also stripped the bed—after discovering old pizza crusts under the pillow and dirty socks shoved under the blankets—and wiped down his half brother’s desk. There was something on the floor that was going to require a mop, but he would take care of that while the first load of laundry was going.

Grunting with the effort, he carried the trashbags outside and threw them in the dumpster then dusted off his still-gloved hands, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from passerby. His determination showed in his gate as he went back up to the dorm room and dragged the first load of dirty clothes down to where the laundry machines were—he added more soap than he usually would just to be careful—and started the load on “Super Cycle” before heading back. It was time to take care of whatever it was that had dried onto the floor.

-

It was dark by the time Matthew was satisfied that Alfred’s side of the room was clean. No more trash. No more piles of dirty clothes. No more unidentifiable-crap stuck to the floor. The bedcovers had been washed and the bed remade, minus pizza crusts and dirty socks. Alfred’s clean clothes were folded and placed neatly on his bed to be put away when he returned. His magazines and books had been straightened and placed on his sterilized desk, and his shelves had been organized, as had his videogames and movies. It was almost as clean as Matt’s side of the room and smelled of his air freshener.

Matthew dropped into his desk chair with a tired sigh and surveyed his work. “Better. Much better.”

Gilbird whistled, his tiny talons wrapped around the bars of his cage as he peered at Matthew.

“Oh, do you want out?”

Another whistle.

“Okay, but I have to shower first. Then you can be out of your cage for as long as you want.”

With that, Matthew stood, gathered his shower caddy and towel, and headed off down the hall to the bathroom.

Cold water streamed out of the shower head as Matt slowly stripped, dropping his clothes into a pile by his feet. A shiver ran up his spine when he stepped under the water and goosebumps quickly spread over his skin.

“Mm…” There was nothing as good as a cold shower after a long day, especially when he felt particularly gross after cleaning such a large mess.

As usual, he picked up his bar of soap and scrubbed his body first, making sure to get even the backs of his ears and the spaces between his toes perfectly clean. Only when he was satisfied that there wasn’t a trace of Alfred’s filth left on him, he set down his soap and picked up his bottle of shampoo. He took a deep breath as he poured a bit of the gel-like substance into his palm then began lathering it into his hair. Almost instantly, his body felt warm and flushed despite how cold the shower was. As quickly as he could, Matthew spread the shampoo throughout his hair to try to get through this as quickly as possible.

Every time. Every time he showered or brushed his hair or even if he wasn’t careful putting his hood up, he hit that stupid curl that wouldn’t go away and then _this_ happened. He got hot and uncomfortable and had thoughts that he shouldn’t have and he couldn’t breathe right. _And Gilbert had touched his curl._ Just thinking about how that could have ruined his friendship with the albino made Matthew’s heart hurt. It was just lucky that the older boy hadn’t noticed.

_He’d have gotten so freaked out. Or he’d have thought it was really funny._ The thought of how Gilbert might have laughed at him, teased him about being so innocent and easy to fluster, made his face burn with embarrassment. That was why he didn’t have very many friends. Someone would casually touch his curl and then he’d become a laughing stock, especially during his early teen years. There was no way he was going to let Gilbert know what happened when his curl was touched.

The moment the shampoo was sufficiently lathered into his hair, Matthew stepped back under the spray of water and rinsed off, using the cold water to force his body to calm down again. Cold water was the only thing that worked to get rid of…it. Matt didn’t even look—he deliberately kept his eyes up until he felt his body cool and his breathing returned to normal. Only once he was sure he was fine did he turn the water off and open the curtain to grab his towel. Drying his hair was a delicate process, but as long as he was careful his body wouldn’t get too excited and all it took to calm down again was the walk back to his dorm once he’d dried off.

Even though the only other living soul in the dorm was Gilbird, the blond still went into the walk-in closet to get dressed in his pajamas—white with a red maple leaf on the chest of the shirt and countless little leaves on the pants that spelled out “Canada” over and over again. He loved his pajamas.

“All right, Gilbird, you can come out now,” he whispered as he opened the cage door. Instantly, the little bird flew out of his cage and settled on the railing of Matthew’s lofted bed, chirping. Matt couldn’t help but smile as he grabbed a book from the shelf above his desk and climbed up the ladder to lie in bed while reading. Just after he’d settled, Gilbird jumped onto his back and hopped all the way up to the blond’s shoulder, cocking his head to look at the book in Matt’s hands.

Giggling, Matt moved the book so Gilbird could see and pretended that they were reading together.

“I’m glad Gilbert asked me to watch you. It’s not so lonely this way.”

Gilbird chirped.

-

Matt woke up with his face in his book and the pages stuck to his face.

“Nng…” Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, then picked up his glasses from where they’d landed when they’d been knocked off his face. He just knew his cheek was going to be red from having fallen asleep on his book, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like there was anyone there to see him.

Sleep-blurred eyes examined the dorm to find that the light was still on even though it was almost three in the morning, and Gilbird was sleeping in his cage. With stiff limbs, Matt climbed down from his bed and shuffled to where the lightswitch was, grabbing his phone off his desk and using it to light his way back up into his bed. With little grace, he shoved the book he’d been reading under his pillow then pulled the blankets over himself, snuggling in comfortably.

It was then that he realized that his phone hadn’t been displaying his usual background, so he clicked the button—groaning when it blinded him temporarily—then finally acknowledged the fact that he had a message. His half-asleep brain took even longer to figure out that the name on the screen said “Gilbert” and he opened the message, still squinting against the light.

_< < I should have stayed on campus with you._

_> > Why? Is something wrong?_

_< < Naw, but I miss you, and it’s boring here._

Matthew felt little flutters in his stomach—Gilbert missed him?

_> > Well, Gilbird and I are having a good time hanging out. He says he misses you, too._

_< < Haha. Give him an extra treat for me when he wakes up in the morning. Were you busy? It took you a while to respond._

_> > I fell asleep pretty early and just woke up._

_< < Aww, are you all sleepy-eyed and drowsy? That’s cute._

_> > Shut up. I’m going back to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow._

_< < Sweet dreams, sleepy head._

Tucking his phone under his pillow beside his book, Matt snuggled into his pillow once more and quickly fell back asleep, smiling the whole time. Gilbert missed him.


	5. Chapter 5

Why the fuck had he thought it would be a good idea to visit his parents for the weekend? He really should have stayed at school, but he’d made his choice and now he had to deal with the consequences. No matter how much the whole thing pissed him off.

This is such bullshit. Fucking Golden Boy, the albino thought bitterly, slouching in his chair. An untouched plate of food sat before him, unappetizing due to what he was witnessing.

His brother, the Golden Boy, sat across the table from Gilbert, next to his annoyingly happy boyfriend. At either end of the table sat his mother and father, both absolutely glowing with pride as they interacted with their second son. Ludwig was deep in conversation with them and flawlessly kept the brunet beside him included—Gilbert just _knew_ they were holding hands under the table. It made him want to kick his brother in the shin, but he wasn’t willing to put his feet where they might accidentally discover a game of Footsie.

Even his father—who Gilbert knew was uncomfortable with the thought of homosexuality—was smiling and talking to the kid as if he’d known him for forever and couldn’t be happier that he was dating Ludwig. It was as if even that long-standing opinion was blown away simply because Ludwig was perfect and therefore being interested in men couldn’t possibly be a bad thing. Gilbert had the feeling that if _he_ brought a boyfriend home, he’d be yelled at and told to never do such a vile thing ever again.

Red eyes tracked every movement as Ludwig turned to smile at the brunet, who blushed and giggled quietly before placing a chaste kiss on the blond’s cheek. Both of Gilbert’s parents smiled.

“Oh, vhat a sveetheart,” his mother commented, her own gentle smile in place.

“Don’t let him butter you up too much, Luddy,” his father added with a grin and a playful wink. “Before you know it, you’ll be putty in his hand and he’ll get anyzhing he vants from you.”

Ludwig laughed as the brunet’s face turned a darker shade of pink and he looked down at his empty plate shyly. The blond leaned over and kissed the top of the smaller male’s head, smiling fondly as he did so.

Ugh. He was going to hurl if he sat there for much longer.

Pushing his chair back from the table, Gilbert stood and turned with the intention of going outside and having a cigarette.

“Dinner isn’t over yet, Gilbert.”

Gilbert stopped, his hand tightly gripping the back of the chair he’d just vacated.

_Finally noticed me, huh?_

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re not excused from zhe table, eizher.”

_Go fuck yourself._

“May I be excused?”

“ _Nein._ ”

“May I _please_ be excused, _sir?_ ” the albino ground out, red eyes glaring at the wall that was only a few feet away. Close enough to punch if he got mad enough to lash out. Which would lead to an all-out shouting match with his father. Wouldn’t that be the fucking cherry on top of this shit-tastic weekend.

“Gilbert,” a gentler voice cut in, “von’t you spend some time vizh us?”

“I’m not feeling very vell, Mozher,” he replied without turning, though his tone had quieted and he relaxed somewhat. “I need some fresh air.” He could practically feel his father’s eyes drilling into his back and could too easily imagine the man’s current expression. Disapproval, impatience and that constant look of disappointment all mixed together in the man’s clear blue eyes that were just slightly darker than Ludwig’s. His mouth was probably pressed into a thin line with downturned corners, and his white-blond eyebrows would twitch as he held back a frown. It was an expression Gilbert had seen far too many times.

“Of course you are excused, zhen,” his mother responded in her usual soft-spoken voice. It always seemed strange to Gilbert how entirely different his parents were from each other. His father was confident bordering on arrogant and liked everything to be done perfectly, exactly the way he wanted when he wanted it to be done, and he wanted it done that way the first time. Ludwig was practically a carbon copy of their father and Gilbert could barely stand to be in the same room with them, though admittedly, that was mostly due to his father. His mother, on the other hand, was as quiet and gentle as a deer and loved everyone she met, regardless of who they were, where they were from or what have you. Gilbert couldn’t stand his father, but he loved his mother more than anyone.

“ _Danke,_ ” he said quietly before he strode out of the dining room and made his way to the front door.

Less than a day and he’d be back at school again. He just had to make it until tomorrow afternoon. Not that he missed the college. School simply had something that home didn’t. School had Matthew. 

The moment he got outside, Gilbert retrieved his cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. That first drag was always the best one, and he made sure to breathe in deeply before letting the smoke escape through his nose—he actually looked rather terrifying when he did that.

“I zhought you told Mozher you quit.”

Startled, Gilbert jumped and swore and almost dropped his cigarette. “Damn it, Vest! Don’t _do_ zhat!” he growled, absent-mindedly using the nickname he’d given the blond back when they were children.

Ludwig, used to his brother’s temper, sighed and moved to stand beside the other male, blue eyes looking out over the street. It was a quiet neighborhood consisting of quaint little houses, complete with picket fences and tall street lamps. A few kids were playing with a ball in the road, trying to get through as much of their game as they could before their parents started calling for them to come inside. The sun was starting to set, casting long, dark shadows over everything.

Irritated as usual, Gilbert made sure his cigarette hadn’t gone out then took another drag on it. He held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before blowing it off to the side so it wouldn’t bother Ludwig.

“Mozher vill be upset if she sees you smoking,” the blond commented, and Gilbert rolled his eyes.

“I’m an adult. I can do vhatever I fucking vant.”

Even though the swearing bothered him, Ludwig didn’t say anything about it. “And if Fazher pulls your funding? How vill you pay for college? You vould have to move home, Gilbert.”

The albino snorted derisively. As if he would ever willingly move back in with his parents for more than just the summer between semesters. It was bad enough that he had to visit for a weekend once a month. “I’ll just get a job, zhen.” Finished with his cigarette, he dropped the butt and ground it into the sidewalk with the heel of his shoe before kicking the remnants into the grass where they’d be less likely to be found by his parents.

“Vhat job could you get vizhout graduating college?” Ludwig asked, his way of pointing out that Gilbert would never be satisfied with a job that would hire a college dropout; they both knew he was right even if Gilbert wouldn’t admit it.

Rolling his eyes again, the albino moved to sit on the front step, slouching forward and resting his forearms on his knees. “I tried to quit. Didn’t vork.”

“Try harder,” Ludwig said simply as he sat beside his brother. “No vone vants you to die of lung cancer, Gil.”

“As if any of you vould miss me,” the white-haired boy muttered, glaring at the sidewalk between his booted feet.

Ludwig hadn’t heard. “Vhat?”

“Nozhing.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Gilbert really wasn’t sure if his family would miss him if he got sick or was hurt badly enough that he died, or if he simply vanished one day. It certainly didn’t seem like it. Everyone was so happy with how fucking perfect Ludwig was that Gilbert had given up on trying to impress them a long time ago. It was easier to do whatever the hell he wanted and not give a damn about what anyone else thought.

The sun continued to sink lower and lower until it disappeared behind the horizon. Voices of mothers and fathers reached the two brothers, calling for their children to come have dinner before bed time.

“I’ve been told zhat I should be ashamed of myself.” Gilbert’s eyes stayed locked on the sidewalk as he spoke, and he did his best to keep his tone calm despite the sting he still felt at those words. “Zhat I am a vaste and an embarrassment.”

Surprised by this sudden show of trust, Ludwig turned icy blue eyes on his brother. “By who?” he asked softly, not entirely sure if he wanted to know and half afraid that he already did.

“Our _vater._ ”

Ludwig felt sympathy towards his older brother and anger towards his father for saying such hurtful things. “I vill talk to him about it. He shouldn’t say zhat about you. I—”

“ _Nein,_ ” Gilbert cut him off, straightening suddenly as his hands curled into fists and rested on his thighs. “I don’t vant him to know zhat I care vhat he zhinks. I _don’t_ care. He vants me to be like you and I’m not, so he zhinks I am not vorzh as much as a son, but I don’t care vhat he says or does.”

“Gil…”

The pity in Ludwig’s voice forced Gilbert to his feet and he grinned widely, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “I’m going for a valk,” he announced, then he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Ludwig where the blond still sat on the front step of their parents’ house. He could feel those ice blue eyes on the back of his head as he made his way down the sidewalk.

“Vhat zhe hell vas zhat all about?” he muttered once he knew he was out of sight of the house. He hadn’t meant to say any that to his brother. Never before in his life had he complained about how his father treated him. Well, outside calling him a cranky old bastard and wondering how it was possible that anyone could be so blind as to not be able to realize that Gilbert was Awesome Incarnate. Even then, he hadn’t shown the smallest hint that the words hurt him, but he’d just told Ludwig and he knew that he’d looked vulnerable while he said it. His own little brother had offered to stand up for him, but that would only make things worse.

_Zhe bastard vould call me a coward for letting mein kleiner bruder fight my battles for me. I know Ludvig is trying to help, but he is zhe reason Vater is so disappointed in me. Before Ludvig, I vas exactly zhe same as I am now, but I vas not a disappointment. I vas just energetic und a harmless troublemaker. I never hurt anyvone or anyzhing. Yet, vhen Ludvig vas born and he vas so perfect, suddenly I vas in trouble for every little zhing. I vas a bad influence to mein bruder. I needed to grow up and be a good role model even zhough I vas too young to tie mein own shoes._

Fuzzy memories of those early years drifted in and out of his head as he wandered aimlessly down the sidewalk. Without consciously deciding to, he retrieved another cigarette and lit it for the single purpose of having something to do with his hands. Things had only gotten worse with his father when he’d started smoking, illegally, at the age of fifteen. He remembered that fight as if it had been yesterday.

The stupid kid he’d been had carelessly left a carton of the cheap cigs that were all he could afford at the time out on his desk to be discovered by his mother while she was gathering dirty clothes to do laundry. She’d taken the cigarettes to his father. Gilbert could still remember what it felt like when his father had slapped him for “throwing his life away” and being “a disgrace to the whole family.” Those were the exact phrases that had been shouted at him as the cigarettes were waved in his face. His father had also demanded to know if he was doing drugs, drinking or having sex—Gilbert had denied all of the accusations thrown at him even though he _had_ been involved in drinking. At the time, he had yet to encounter someone he’d wanted to sleep with.

After that fight, it hadn’t mattered to anyone that he’d had bruises all over the side of his face from the hit. His extended family merely shrugged because he’d brought it on himself by getting involved with such a nasty habit. Gilbert remembered that his jaw had been too sore on that side to eat anything for almost a week—he’d lost a few pounds in that time, making him look even paler than usual. But it hadn’t been enough to get him to quit smoking. His father had moved his curfew up, taken away his allowance, searched his pockets every time he walked into the house and sniffed his clothes for any traces of the smell of smoke. Without money, he bummed them off guys at school and strangers on the street whenever he had a chance to go into the nearby city. Stronger cologne hid the smell. As for the curfew, he’d ignored it completely even though his defiance had only led to countless more fights with his father. He couldn’t imagine the yelling that would have taken place if they’d found out about the drinking and then discovered that he’d started having sex less than a year after that.

It was too easy to imagine the look on his father’s face if he found out that Gilbert had been sleeping with both boys and girls since he was old enough to drive to his favorite hook-up locations. The best part was that, with men, Gilbert wasn’t always the dominant partner. He knew one of the only reasons his father was so accepting of the fact that Ludwig was dating that brunet was because he was obviously the “man in the relationship.” Usually, Gilbert was on top, but he occasionally encountered a man who was just so obviously capable of bending him in half and making him scream that he didn’t give a fuck about “being the girl.”

Growing tired of walking, the albino turned into the small park that he’d used to play at as a child and dropped onto one of the swings, using his feet to push himself forward and back over and over and over again. His cigarette was used up, so he spat out the butt and stomped on it to put out any leftover sparks, his hands still safely tucked into his jacket pockets. As he sat there, idly swinging, his thoughts drifted to what he’d told Matthew about what he found attractive. It was true, he wasn’t attracted to big muscles. It wasn’t the muscles themselves that interested him. It was the dominant air, the way some men behaved and moved and spoke that he found unbelievably appealing. Men that were bigger and stronger and rougher than Gilbert could ever hope to be.

When those men were around, he had a hard time controlling himself and purposefully drank more than usual so he wouldn’t be too tense later on. There were a few times when he’d managed to participate in a threesome and he didn’t think it was possible to feel better than that had made him feel. And if his father knew that Gilbert liked to be forced to submit and that he enjoyed dirty abuse talk more than was probably common, he’d die of a stroke.

Thinking about it now made the albino smirk. He could smoke, drink and fuck as much as he wanted, and his father couldn’t do a thing about it. Except threaten to pull his funding, as Ludwig had said, but Gilbert knew that all he had to do was keep his habits from being obvious, and that wouldn’t happen. He didn’t care about the money, though. He just didn’t want to upset his mother. She was the kindest woman in the world. Even when he’d fought with his father constantly, she’d made sure he was all right after their fights. No matter what, she came to tell him that she loved him just before he went to sleep each night, even when he’d gotten older and insisted that he wasn’t a baby and she didn’t have to keep doing it. He knew it broke her heart to see him at odds with his father, but he couldn’t help it. The man wanted him to be something he wasn’t, and Gilbert had no desire whatsoever to pretend he was the perfect son that Ludwig had turned out to be.

It was hours before he finally abandoned the swing and began making his way back towards the house. His feet hurt and the sun had vanished long ago, so he plodded along until he got back to his parents’ house and quietly let himself inside. It was almost completely silent, which meant his parents, brother and the brunet were probably all asleep. This being the case, the albino tip-toed up to his old bedroom, changed into his pajamas and slipped into bed after hiding his cigarettes under his mattress like a teenager hiding a pornographic magazine.

Comfortable on the familiar old mattress, he found himself dozing after only a few minutes of lying there, though he was became fully alert when he heard the door open. The soft sound of feet making their across the carpeted floor reached him and he relaxed, recognizing the gait of the person who had snuck into his room so late at night when everyone should have been sound asleep.

“ _Gute nacht, mein sohn,_ ” came the familiar whisper as Gilbert sensed someone leaning over him as he lay in bed and pretended to be asleep. Gentle fingers brushed the white locks of hair away from his face and a kiss was placed on his temple. “ _Ich liebe dich._ ”

As the person moved away and left again, Gilbert let himself smile and sighed contentedly. _That_ was why it was worth putting up with his father to come home.


	6. Chapter 6

With a pristine white envelope held securely to his chest, Matthew wandered across the college campus to where the outgoing mailbox was. The envelope was addressed to his mother in his small, curling handwriting. He’d been teased about it in his younger days—his classmates had thought it was a girly way to write—but he liked his handwriting. It was quiet and unobtrusive and simple but still nice. Matthew had decided a long time ago that it suited him.

The metal blue box came into view and the blond sped up slightly, eager to send his letter home. He felt a small sense of guilt because he’d forgotten to write to her the past couple of weeks, but he’d been so busy getting to know Gilbert that his weekly letters had completely slipped his mind. Now that he’d gone a weekend without the older student, he’d remembered and wrote an extra long letter to make up for missing his last two. In it, he’d told her all about Gilbert and how nice it was to have a friend. He also tried to make it sound as if he was much closer to Alfred than he really was, though he knew she would probably see right through that.

She always had been able to tell exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

When Matthew finally reached the mailbox, he placed a kiss on the envelope before slipping it through the little opening. It would reach her in a week or two and by then he’d have sent two more after it. Sure, email would have been faster, but the internet at home wasn’t exactly reliable, and he preferred writing letters. Handwritten letters were much more personal than emails.

His letter now safely in the mailbox, the blond turned around and began the short walk back to his dorm hall. It was pleasantly cool out, being about mid-September. Some of the trees were beginning to show orange and yellow in their leaves, betraying that autumn was on its way. Matthew couldn’t have been more excited. Autumn meant that winter would be here soon. Winter was his favorite. He loved snow and the thought of everything being covered in the white powder made him smile.

“I’m back, Gilbird,” he said quietly as he entered the dorm, and the little yellow bird whistled a soft greeting. Matthew’s gaze slid from the bird to the still form on his brother’s bed. Unsurprisingly, Alfred was still sound asleep, just as Matt had left him when he went to send his letter. The taller blond had been asleep for several hours and was showing no signs of waking—his weekend seemed to have worn him out completely and it wouldn’t surprise Matt if he stayed asleep until the next morning.

Sometimes, he wondered if his half-brother went partially comatose when he slept like this. At least the American had talked to him about how clean his side of the room was when he’d first gotten back. And he’d promised not to let it get so messy again, since there was so much more room for him to lounge when it was clean. So he at least wasn’t going to have to put up with the other teen’s filth anymore.

And, besides, Gilbert would be back today.

The thought of the albino brought a smile to Matthew’s face and he felt a little bit of warmth start in his belly and spread throughout his entire body. A split second later the smile vanished as he abruptly spun around and slowly sank into his desk chair, then put his arms on the desktop and buried his face in them with a muffled groan.

This couldn’t be happening. He didn’t want it to. Gilbert was an amazing—awesome—friend and he loved spending time with him and joking around and making fun of the teachers. Gilbert didn’t care how much maple syrup he put on, well, just about anything. He didn’t care that Matt always wore his hoody or that his hair was usually a little messy. He was the only person who didn’t have to ask Matt to repeat himself because he spoke too quietly and he never, ever forgot Matt’s name or went a day without texting him to see what he was up to. Gilbert was the only real friend Matthew had had in a long time, and he was definitely the best friend he’d ever had. But the warm feeling in his stomach was threatening to ruin it.

_I don’t want to_ like _Gilbert. I just want to be his friend. Is that so hard? To be friends? Just because I like boys…do I have to fall for the first guy friend I’ve had in years? Or is it just because he is the first guy friend I’ve had in so long? It could just be a new-friend-crush. Maybe it’ll go away._

He hoped so. Having a crush on Gilbert was definitely not okay. The albino didn’t find him attractive and while he had a flirtatious personality, he kept it mild with Matthew. Matt knew it was because of how he’d reacted when Gilbert blew on the back of his neck in the lobby that day. That had terrified him. No one had ever done that to him before, and his body had reacted so strongly that he’d frozen simply because he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t used to being…aroused…by anything other than his hair curl, and he protected that out of habit. But his neck? In Canada, he usually wore a scarf in addition to his hoody. He’d known the skin there was sensitive but not _that_ sensitive. Not so much that a little puff of breath could make his heart pound like a drum.

But what if it wasn’t just a new-friend-crush? What if he legitimately like-liked Gilbert? The albino wouldn’t want to hang around with him anymore. It would make things awkward. Or he’d tease Matt about it, and Matt didn’t think he could stand it if he had to put up with jokes about liking boys here, too. He’d gotten enough of that in high school to last him a lifetime.

_It’s just a little crush,_ he assured himself. _There’s nothing wrong with having a tiny little crush on your best friend. Gilbert won’t even know. If I ignore it, eventually I’ll get over him and things will be fine. No problem._

Lifting his head, Matthew glanced around the room for something to do to distract himself from his newfound feelings and spotted a sports magazine that Alfred had brought back with him. The cover had a picture of snowboarders on it, and Matt couldn’t help himself. Winter sports were a secret addiction of his.

As quiet as always, he “borrowed” the magazine and climbed up into his loft after letting Gilbird out of his cage and settled down to browse through the magazine until Gilbert got back. It was a nice enough way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

X

The bags were packed and loaded into the trunk. They had snacks and bottles of water to last them the next three hours. But the important thing was that Gilbert had remembered to plug in his Ipod the night before, so he wouldn’t have to put up with the endless chatter that would come from the brunet for their drive home. All that was left to do was say goodbye to their parents, and they’d be on their way back to the college. Gilbert stood back a few feet to let Ludwig go first, only stepping forward when the blond and his brunet lover had finished with their farewells and were getting in the car.

“Be safe,” his mother murmured as she hugged him, and Gilbert smiled slightly.

“I vill,” he promised. “ _Ich liebe dich, Mutter_.” Then he gently pulled out of her embrace and reluctantly turned to his father. Cold blue eyes stared at him. Gilbert smiled as if he hadn’t a care in the world and stuck his hand out for his father to shake. Those eyes regarded him for a moment before his father slowly reached forward and shook his hand.

“Stay out of trouble, Gilbert.”

The albino’s smile turned devious and he gave his father a playful wink. “Don’t I alvays?” Before the man could reply, he let go of his hand and got into the car. Red eyes met icy blue and he smirked. “Vhat?”

Ludwig held back a sigh. “You know it upsets him vhen you act like zhat.”

“Vhy do you zhink I do it?” Gilbert asked, then stretched his legs out over the back seat and prepared to lounge comfortably for the next three hours. As Ludwig started the car, Gilbert pulled his headphones on and took his Ipod out of his pocket. Too lazy to scroll through, he simply restarted the last song he’d been listening to and settled back against the car door, his hands tucked under his head.

_Now the dark begins to rise_

_Save your breath, it's far from over_

_Leave the lost and dead behind_

_Now's your chance to run for cover_

_I don't want to change the world_

_I just wanna leave it colder_

_Light the fuse and burn it up_

_Take the path that leads to nowhere_

Ah, Breaking Benjamin. One of his favorite bands. This song in particular was one of Gilbert’s all-time favorites. Just as the chorus was starting, he felt a buzz in his pocket and retrieved his phone to see a new message from a number he recognized as someone he’d deleted off his contact list a long time ago. He hadn’t thought there would ever be reason to text him again, and he certainly hadn’t thought he’d ever receive a message from the number. Apprehensive, he clicked the message open and immediately wished he’d just deleted it without reading.

_> > What do you want with that cute little blond, Prussian? _

It was either Francis or Antonio. Probably Francis—Antonio wouldn’t bother texting him just to ask about “that cute little blond,” who of course had to be Matthew, and they were the only two people outside his own family that knew his albinism came from his Prussian heritage. But what did Francis want with Matt?

_< < He’s my friend. What of it, whorehouse? _

_> > I just wondered if you had plans for him. _

A disgusted sneer twisted Gilbert’s lips and he pushed the keys on his phone harder than was necessary as he typed his reply.

_< < If you’re asking me if I plan on having sex with him, then you can mind your own damn business. _

_> > I’ll take that as a no. Not man enough to take the boy’s virginity, I see. _

Gilbert had to sit up before he could manage to text back to that. Francis’ messages were making him furious, far more than they should have been. No, he didn’t intend to sleep with Matthew. They were friends and he had no intentions of ruining it with sex. But that was none of Francis’ god damn business and Gilbert was almost afraid to ask why the Frenchman wanted to know. And how dare he accuse Gilbert of not being “man” enough! Just because he didn’t make his friends with the ulterior motive of using them for sex like Francis did!

_< < Listen here, you god forsaken pervert. Matthew is my friend and if I choose not to sleep with him it’s because I enjoy his friendship more than I want his body. Not that it’s any of your fucking business. And I swear to god, if you try to sleep with him, I’ll kick your ass so hard they’ll have to use one of those hospital helicopters to get you back to France. Got it? _

_> > You’re making this too much fun for me, Gilbert. If you don’t want him for yourself, then why can’t I have him? I just want a little piece. _

That pompous son of a bitch. Gilbert was actually _shaking_ as he stared at the message, fury eating him up from the inside. If he tried _anything_ with Matthew, anything at all, Gilbert would rip him to pieces.

_< < Fuck off, Francis. Leave me alone, and keep your filthy hands away from Matt. _

_> > Only if your filthy hands get there before me. _

He almost threw his phone out the window. Francis couldn’t be serious. But he knew he’d go nuts if he didn’t have his phone, so he resisted the urge to chuck it out of the car as if it was Francis and settled for simply deleting the message thread without replying. It wouldn’t do him any good to keep it because then he’d just re-read it over and over and get himself more and more worked up over it. The best option at this point was to start a new conversation with someone he actually wanted to talk to.

With clumsier fingers than normal, he opened a new message.

_< < How’s your weekend, Mattie? We’re on our way back so I’ll be there to get Gilbird in a few hours. _

_> > Great! Gilbird and I are having a great time. And you wouldn’t believe how clean the room is. _

His anger at Francis already fading, Gilbert smiled slightly as he returned to his lounging position on the back seat.

_< < Did that lazy brother of yours actually wash his clothes? _

_> >No, I did it for him while he was gone. But he did promise to keep it clean from now on. _

_< < That’s good, but you should have made him clean up by himself. We’re going to have to get you a backbone, Matt. _

_> > I have a backbone! _

Gilbert chuckled, not noticing the curious glance his brother gave him in the rearview mirror.

_< < Sure you do. _

_> > Jerk. _

_< < Wuss. _

_> > Come over when you get back. Gilbird missed you. _

_< < I missed him, too. _

It was stupid and silly, but it made the albino smile. He knew that Matt was the one who had missed him, and he knew that Matt knew he’d missed him, too. They just couldn’t say it so plainly to each other—it would ruin their game. Eventually, though, Gilbert knew he’d be able to admit that he’d missed the blond. It was simply too early in their friendship for such an affectionate exchange.

_I should warn him about Francis._

Letting Matt know about what Francis had said would be the right thing to do. Probably. But if Francis had only said it to bait him into becoming angry, then telling Matt to be careful around the French student would make him seem overprotective and paranoid, even jealous. He most definitely was _not_ jealous. He didn’t want to sleep with Matt. Sure, the blond was cute, even worthy of the term “adorable,” but Gilbert didn’t find him sexy and he certainly wouldn’t dream of taking Matt to his bed. The Canadian was his friend. They were well on their way to being very close friends and Gilbert wasn’t about to mess it up with sex. Besides, even if he did want Matt in that way, he doubted the younger student would ever want him back.

_Eh, it’s not a big deal. Matt’s too smart to get mixed up with a playboy like Francis, anyway._

He hoped so, at least.

X

Matt had read through the magazine at least four times when someone knocked at his door.

_Gilbert!_

Eager to see the albino, he jumped out of his lofted bed without bothering with the ladder, landing on his feet, and all but ran to the door. Though he did take a moment to calm himself before he opened the door and smiled up at the familiar form of his friend. Before either boy had a chance to speak, something small and yellow streaked across the dorm room to land on top of Gilbert’s head, where it settled comfortably.

“Hey, buddy,” Gilbert crooned, reaching up to stroke the creature’s head. “How vas your veekend?”

Gilbird, content in his place on his master’s head, chirped and nuzzled against the pale fingers, obviously pleased to see him. The sight of Gilbert, who was usually so calm and collected and almost constantly had that smirk on his face, standing in his doorway grinning like an idiot with a little yellow bird perched on top of his head made Matthew giggle as he covered his mouth with one hand. Instantly, Gilbert’s red eyes landed on him and Matt knew he was going to get hell for that giggle.

“Vhat’re you laughing at, vuss?” he asked, stepping into the dorm and shutting the door behind himself.

Putting an innocent expression in place, Matt took a few steps back. “Nothing.”

“Really.”

Even with Gilbird nestled in his hair, Gilbert managed to smirk in a way that made Matthew’s neck heat up, his red eyes seeming to glow all on their own. Within moments, he’d backed the shorter student up until Matthew found that he could back no farther, having somehow gotten himself trapped between Gilbert and the ladder of his loft. Even though he stopped moving away, the taller boy continued to lean closer until their noses could have brushed together, his arms rising to trap Matthew.

“Because I’m pretty sure you vere laughing at somezhing.”

“G-Gilbert,” Matthew stuttered, even quieter than usual, heart pounding in his chest as that same warmth from earlier started up again and his stomach decided it wanted to become a gymnast.

“ _Ja, mein kleiner Vogel?_ ” the albino whispered, slipping into his native tongue because he knew Matthew loved to hear him speak German.

Matthew didn’t know what to do. This was the first time Gilbert had gotten so close to him since that time in the lobby, and since he had a crush on the white-haired student, he didn’t necessarily dislike it. Still, he couldn’t help but be terrified of what his friend was doing or might be about to do.

“W-what…um…what’re you doing?” he squeaked, then blushed darkly at what had happened to his voice.

The smirk that had been curling up one side of Gilbert’s mouth spread into a full out grin and he straightened. “Nozhing. I just like zhe vay your face turns all pink like zhat.”

At his words, Matthew’s face heated even further and he knew the pink Gilbert was talking about had darkened to red. Embarrassed, he slipped out from between the albino and the ladder and went to where he’d put Gilbird’s cage—the bird immediately abandoned Gilbert and hopped into his cage so that Matthew could shut the door. Lifting the cage and turning, Matt offered a small smile to Gilbert.

“Here. He’s ready to go home.”

Gilbert grinned and reached out to ruffle the blond’s hair, and the next second Matthew’s knees had buckled.

“Matt!” Acting on instinct, the albino lunged forward and caught the smaller student around the waist before he could hit the floor, Gilbird’s cage trapped awkwardly between their bodies as the animal inside screeched and puffed out his feathers in fear. “Matt, are you okay? Vhat happened?”

Matthew shook his head, blinking rapidly, and struggled to regain control of his legs even as his body continued to react to what the older student had done. He could feel it, that tightness in his stomach as his skin tingled and a very specific part of his body began to harden.

_Damn it! Not now! Not with Gilbert here!_

Frantically, he tried to pull free of the albino’s hold but Gilbert refused to let go. The red eyes were full of concern as Matt was guided to the desk chair and forced sit. He took deep breaths, digging his nails into his palms as Gilbert placed Gilbird’s cage on the floor where it wouldn’t be in the way.

“Matzhew, vhat happened? Are you all right? You aren’t going to faint, are you?” he asked, gaze locked on the Canadian’s face. Matthew shook his head, blue-violet eyes lowered out of fear that if he looked Gilbert in the face that the albino would _know,_ and that was the last thing he wanted.

“I’m fine.”

“ _Nein,_ you collapsed! I zhought you vere unconscious! Vhat if you’d hit your head? Vhat if I hadn’t caught you?” He didn’t say it, but seeing his friend suddenly go limp like that absolutely terrified him.

“It…it’s fine, Gilbert. Happens all the time. I’ll be okay,” the blond mumbled, more embarrassed than he’d ever been in his life. His body had stopped in its reaction to the older boy’s touch, but that didn’t mean very much. He was still hard. He needed to go take a cold shower, but Gilbert didn’t seem like he was about to leave.

“If you’re sure,” Gilbert conceded as he straightened, though he did look his friend up and down a few times to make sure Matthew wasn’t injured. His eyes widened in surprise. “Matt…you’re…”

“What?” Looking up, Matthew realized where Gilbert’s eyes had stopped and instantly turned a deep shade of red. “I’m sorry! Just—I—” At a loss for words, he quickly yanked his hoody down to conceal the telltale bulge that had formed in his jeans and twisted in the chair so he wasn’t facing the older boy. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t. But it was, and all Matthew wanted at that moment was to curl up and disappear, to not feel those red eyes on him anymore because it felt like they could see right through him to his very core.

“It’s all right, Matt,” Gilbert tried to soothe him, though he was still shocked by what he’d just seen. “It…is that…from me?”

_Yes._ “N-no…it...it happens whenever someone messes with my hair curl,” the blond mumbled, said curl hanging in front of his face.

Oh. So when Gilbert had ruffled his hair…

His own face flushing slightly, Gilbert crouched down next to the chair and put a comforting hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I von’t mess vizh your hair anymore, okay?”

Matthew nodded slowly and Gilbert smiled.

“I can leave so you can take care of that,” he offered, trying to sound casual about it even though the fact that Matthew had a boner was making him feel a little warm. Had it been anyone else, he’d have teased them about it before offering to help them with it. Eventually, he might even have turned it to his advantage and taken the opportunity to get laid. But there was no way he was doing that to Matt. Hadn’t he already decided that he wasn’t going to ruin this friendship?

“Yes, please,” came the quiet response, and Gilbert smiled again before patting the younger boy’s shoulder.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” Then he stood, picked up Gilbird’s cage, and vanished out the door. Matthew let out a relieved sigh and straightened in his chair, glaring at that part of his body that was causing all the trouble.

“Dude.”

Startled, Matthew jumped slightly then turned to see Alfred sitting up and staring at him with sleep-blurred blue eyes.

“Alfred! How long have you been awake?” Matt asked nervously, once again pulling his hoody down as a shield.

“Don’t bother, man. I already know you’ve got a boner under there. Saw the whole thing. You really get turned on just because someone touches your hair?” Alfred asked then yawned, rubbing at his eyes before putting on his glasses.

“W-well…yes…”

The American offered his trademark grin. “You don’t gotta be so nervous about it. We’re brothers, remember? Besides,” lifting a hand, he pointed at a bit of hair that stuck up funny where his cowlick was, “same thing happens to me if this gets messed with.”

Matthew straightened in his chair, now more curious than embarrassed. “Really?”

“Yep. Gets me into all sorts of trouble at parties.” Alfred laughed, making it clear that he didn’t really consider it to be “trouble.” “Lots of people have the same problem. So, that guy, Gilbert. You like him?”

It took Matthew a second to catch up to the sudden change in subject, then he shook his head. “He’s just a good friend.”

Alfred looked borderline disappointed for a moment. “Oh. I thought you, y’know, _liked_ him, cause of the way he was pushing you against your ladder and how you were blushing and all.”

Oh, geez. He really had been awake to see the whole thing and had decided to watch rather than make his observations known. Who on earth did that?

Choosing to ignore what might have been a rather creepy action on his half-brother’s part, Matthew stood and began to gather his shower supplies. “Gilbert gets like that sometimes. He’s just flirty.”

“Yeah, I noticed. D’you think he likes you?” the blue-eyed college student asked, and Matthew flushed lightly.

“N-no, he doesn’t. Like I said, we’re just friends.”

The older boy seemed to think about it for a moment then shrugged. “Okay. Go take your cold shower, Canadian.”

Matt couldn’t help but smile a little as he left the dorm and started towards the bathrooms. That was one of the first real conversations he’d had with his half-brother, and it hadn’t been that awkward despite the topic of discussion. The fact that Alfred wasn’t bothered by Matt’s secret, and in fact could relate to it, was a huge relief. And Gilbert hadn’t seemed all that bothered by it, either. Despite how embarrassing it all was, Matt was almost glad it had happened. Now there were two less people he had to worry about hiding that personal little detail from.


	7. Chapter 7

Why the hell had he decided to take this class? It was such bullshit and he actually couldn’t believe some of the stuff his professor was saying. She was a tiny but energetic woman, with deep brown eyes and short white hair that betrayed her age. Usually, Gilbert found her to be rather entertaining, but today’s lesson was all about what the professor said was called the Bystander Effect and Gil wasn’t sure if she was making it up or not.

Being as discreet as possible, he slouched down in his chair a little farther and slipped his phone out of his jacket pocket. He barely ever texted during class, though that was due to the fact that he had very few people to text, not because he cared about paying attention or potentially getting in trouble. The only reason he was bothering to now was because he knew Matt didn’t have a class at this time.

_< < Hey, have you ever heard of the Bystander Effect?_

_> > Yes, why?_

_< < That’s what today’s lesson is over and I can’t believe this is a real thing._

_> > Gilbert, are you in class right now?_

The question made him smirk, mostly because Matt had told him more than once that he disapproved of texting during class. He could lie, but there was no way he would get away with it—if he hadn’t been in class, he would have been with Matthew. If he wasn’t with Matthew, then he was in class or sleeping in his dorm. That was just how it worked. Besides, he didn’t want to flat out lie to his friend.

_< < Maybe. How much do you know about this Effect deal?_

_> > I wrote a paper about it for my high school psychology class._

_< < So it’s actually real? Wow, people are even bigger assholes than I thought._

_> > If you were paying attention to the lecture, you’d know that isn’t the case._

_< < I am paying attention! Maybe not assholes, but people are definitely pussies._

_> > So you ARE in class._

_< < Yeah, so?_

_> > Gilbert! Don’t text me while you’re in class! Pay attention or you’ll get in trouble!_

_< < If it really bothers you, then stop texting back._

He was so focused on his text conversation that he didn’t notice how quiet it had gotten in the classroom. The silence seemed to prick at him until he finally looked up to figure out what was going on, only to find that every eye in the room was on him.

_Aw, shit._

“I’m sorry if my lecture is boring you, Gilbert,” the professor spoke up in that slightly-sarcastic tone she used almost constantly, “but I’m going to have to ask that you not text in my class.”

Straightening in his chair, Gilbert stuck his phone back in his pocket then clasped his hands on the surface of his desk. “Sorry, Professor Lawrence.”

“You’ve been texting for a while—I hope it was about something important.”

Gilbert let a small smirk creep onto his face. “You could say zhat.” This was going to be fun.

The professor smiled, looking like one of those cute little grandmas that bake cookies all day long and knit sweaters for the grandkids, only tougher. “Then why don’t you come down here and read your conversation to the class? We’re all dying to know what could be more important than the lecture you paid to listen to.”

Shrugging, the albino student stood and took his phone out of his pocket, clicking the buttons as if he was opening a message thread. “Sure, zhough I don’t zhink it’s appropriate for a classroom.”

One of the professor’s eyebrows disappeared into her white hair. “Why not?”

“Vell, unless you vant to analyze my relationship, zhen I doubt you vant to listen to my conversation vizh my boyfriend. He’s bored and started sexting me,” Gilbert lied, the words rolling off his tongue like so many sugary candies. As if it were the most normal thing in the world to say to his psychology professor, he began making his way towards the front of the room as instructed.

“Sexting?” Professor Lawrence repeated, looking a bit shocked at his casual admittance of it.

“ _Ja,_ you know, virtual sex? I don’t mind sharing, but he’ll get cranky if he finds out I read zhe messages to a whole classroom. He’s shy like zhat.”

Lawrence sputtered for a moment. “I know what it is.”

Acting confused, Gilbert stopped and held his phone out. “Do you vant me to read it or vould you razher I not?”

Professor Lawrence appeared to struggle to come up with an answer before she straightened her shoulders. “Sit down, Gilbert.”

Somehow, he managed to keep from smirking as he returned to his desk and slouched down again, his phone open under his desk once more; there was a new message waiting for him.

_> > Just don’t blame me if you get caught._

_< < I did get caught, but I talked my way out of it._

_> > What? How?_

_< < Professor Lawrence wanted me to read our conversation to the class. Told her you were my boyfriend and we were sexting. She changed her mind and I didn’t get in trouble._

_> > GILBERT!!!_

It was hard not to start laughing, especially because he could picture the exact face Matthew would have made upon reading that message. His jaw would drop, his cheeks and ears would turn pink then red, and his eyes would widen. He’d stutter and mumble for a few moments and eventually either force something out or start pouting. Gilbert thought it was cuter when the younger student pouted, but when he’d mentioned that, Matthew had started to make an effort to think of something to say more often. Like that would somehow cause Gilbert to embarrass him less.

_< < Relax, it’s not like I told them your name or anything. I was really vague about it._

_> > But I’m not your boyfriend! And we are NOT sexting! You lied to a professor!_

_< < But I didn’t get in trouble for texting in class, did I._

_> > That’s not the point!_

Even through text, he could tell how flustered Matthew was about the whole thing. Sometimes, he forgot how deeply shy the Canadian was, and then something like this happened and it was impossible to ignore that, compared to Matthew, Gilbert was a massive pervert. Still, at least he hadn’t gone into detail with his lies about sexting. Who knew what Matt would have done if rumors about them dating had started to spread.

Thinking about it, Gil wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cringe, though he quickly dismissed the notion. He hadn’t used Matt’s name, so rumors weren’t going to start. They’d been seen together on campus, sure, but never doing anything cutesy or even remotely close to what couples did. Matthew was just embarrassed.

_< < Relax, Matt. You can yell at me for it later if you want._

_> > Fine._

Such a short message from the blond was unusual. Was Matt genuinely upset? Not just embarrassed?

Worried now that he’d actually made the Canadian mad, Gilbert put his phone away without replying and settled even farther down in his chair. Professor Lawrence was still giving her lecture, but he wasn’t listening. He was too busy wondering if Matt was mad at him and what he could do to fix it when he saw the blond after classes. He’d never seen the younger boy mad before. Embarrassed, yes. Shy, all the time. He’d even seen annoyed, scared, sad, happy, the whole emotional spectrum except for anger and its cousins, fury and rage. Before this moment, he hadn’t even realized that Matthew could get mad, which was silly.

Of course he got mad. He was human, after all. Everybody got mad sometimes. He’d just never seen Matt do it. But there was a first time for everything, so if he had to deal with angry Matthew, it was probably a good thing it was over something trivial like this. Nevertheless, he wasn’t really looking forward to it.

-

This was not okay. This was _not_ okay.

Pacing, Matthew moved from one end of his dorm to the other, his gaze lowered in an expression very similar to a frown. How had this happened? Why? Ugh…he didn’t even know what to do about it. Should he do anything about it? It was just Gilbert, after all. The albino did and said things in a flirtatious manner all the time. That was just how he was. But he’d never told anyone else that he was in a relationship with Matthew before, and that they were sexting, nonetheless.

_Well, that’s not exactly what he did._

Gilbert hadn’t mentioned him by name, in any case. But they spent so much time together that people would assume they were dating if word of the albino sexting in class got out. As sad as it may have seemed to some, Matthew and Gilbert were just about inseparable. Neither of them minded—they were perfectly content with each other’s company—but being around each other so much was bound to start rumors. Matthew wasn’t sure if he could handle rumors about himself and his best friend. Even if, secretly, he did still like him.

Unfortunately, that pesky crush he’d discovered had yet to go away. Sure, it hadn’t been that long, but he’d been _trying_ to get over it ever since that first warm feeling had alerted him to its existence. He’d tried to find flaws in Gilbert that were big enough to eradicate the feelings, but he simply couldn’t find any. Not that he thought Gilbert was perfect, but he didn’t mind any of the older boy’s flaws enough to convince himself that his friend wasn’t worth liking. Not even the fact that Gilbert smoked—a habit which Matthew usually despised—bothered him that much. He had asked Gil not to smoke while he was around, and the albino had agreed without argument before admitting that he was trying to quit. So Matt had simply offered his support.

“He’s too loud. It would never work out. You’re too quiet and shy. He’s really experienced and you’re not and he’d want to be physical and you’d get all embarrassed and you’d never be able to satisfy him in a physical sense,” the blond told himself sternly, still pacing. Even though he was actually talking himself down rather than looking for a fault in Gilbert, it was the only thing he could think of to convince himself to let go of the feelings he was harboring for the albino. Because, in all honesty, he thought Gilbert balanced him out nicely. He was quiet, but when the older boy was around, he managed to speak up a little bit, wasn’t so nervous about sharing his ideas. And Gilbert smiled more now than he had when they’d first met, as if being around Matt made him happier.

“No, no. That’s not it. It’s just because he thinks you’re cute and young and innocent. That’s all. Besides, you’re his friend so he should be happy when he’s around you. But just friends. Remember what he said about the difference between being cute and being sexy. You’re not sexy, Matthew Williams, and it’s no secret. He’s never going to want to date you so just get over it already.”

Crap, now he was just hurting his own feelings, and that would never work because then he’d seek comfort and reassurance from Gilbert. And, of course, the older student would give him both without even trying, which would only make Matt like him even more. It was a vicious cycle and Matthew couldn’t help but worry that he was going to be stuck in it for a very, very long time.

“This is definitely not good.”

“What’s not good, bro?”

Startled, Matthew spun around to see Alfred coming into their room, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder. The American had developed an odd knack for showing up just when Matt was really working himself up over something ever since the hair-ruffling catastrophe with Gilbert.

“Uh, nothing, Alfred. How was class?” Matthew asked, hoping to distract his half-brother before he had to divulge what he was so worried about.

“Boring, as usual.” Dropping his bag by his desk, Alfred all but jumped onto his bed and stretched out on his back, muscles clearly visible under his tanned skin. Matt only wished he could have muscles like those. “You know you’re a really terrible liar, right?”

Crap. “What do you mean?”

Alfred gave him a look that had Matthew blushing and fiddling with the hem of his hoody. “You don’t really think you can fool me, do you? Come on, Mattie. Tell Big Brother Alfred what’s bothering you. Do I have to beat up some bully for messing with you?”

Big Brother Alfred? Where on earth had _that_ come from? “No, it’s…it’s not that, Alfred.”

“Then what is it?”

Matthew didn’t respond, and blue eyes narrowed as Alfred examined the Canadian sitting on the other side of the room. “Is this about Gilbert? Did he try to sleep with you or something?”

“What? No!” Matthew’s heart took off like a horse out of the gate. “W-why would you ask that?”

Alfred shrugged. “Francis and Antonio have a lot of stories about that guy and I’m not sure if I trust him or not. Has he tried anything with you? I know you said he doesn’t like you like that and that you don’t like him like that, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to sleep with you.”

“No…no, Alfred. Gilbert and I are friends. He hasn’t tried to sleep with me or anything like that. Besides, even if he asked, I’d say no.” Matthew shook his head as he spoke, not wanting to believe that Gilbert would do that. But the older boy _was_ a flirt, and he certainly wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he’d had casual sex more than once, so it could be possible…still, Matt didn’t care. He shouldn’t care. Gilbert’s sexual activities were none of his business.

Nodding, the older blond settled back on his bed again. “Good. I don’t want some playboy messing with my little brother. So, if that’s not what’s so terrible, then what were you muttering about when I got here?”

“R-really, it’s nothing—”

“God, you’re a really sucky liar, Matt.”

“It’s not a big deal…”

“Still lying.”

Exasperated, Matthew dropped into his desk chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, then. It’s about Gilbert.”

A grin spread over Alfred’s face and he turned onto his side to look at his half-brother, his cheek propped in his hand to hold his head up. “Knew it. What happened?”

“Nothing…happened, exactly,” the Canadian hedged, unsure how much he was willing to share with his newly friendly half-brother.

“So then what’s the problem?”

Matthew fidgeted. He shifted in his chair. He fiddled with a loose string on the sleeve of his hoody then retrieved a pair of scissors from his desk and cut it off before it could catch on something and pull out the stitching. He carefully straightened out the items on his desk. And Alfred watched him all the while, showing the greatest display of patience Matthew had ever seen the American conjure up.

“Dude, quit stalling.”

Well, maybe he wasn’t as patient as he was acting.

“I…I…” Biting his lip, Matthew tried to decide if this was a good idea or not. Telling his brother that he had a crush on his best friend? When said brother was already worried about Matt getting mixed up with the wrong guy, who happened to be his best friend? It all seemed like a dangerous conversation to have, but he knew how stubborn Alfred was and doubted he’d manage to leave the dorm until the bespectacled college student got the truth out of him.

“I like him!” he burst out, though it wasn’t as dramatic as it should have been because Matthew yelling equaled the volume of someone else just talking.

“Gilbert?” Alfred asked, as if he wasn’t entirely sure who or what Matt was talking about.

Lowering his eyes to look at his sock-covered feet, the younger blond nodded and wished he was small enough to hide his entire body within the comfort of his hoody. “Yeah.”

“You have a crush on Gilbert? I thought you said you didn’t like him like that.”

He bit his lip in a slightly guilty manner. “I didn’t, when you asked the first time.”

“Oh.” Sitting up, Alfred crossed his legs underneath himself and looked at his half-brother thoughtfully. “And you’re not happy about it. Does he know?”

Matthew shook his head; just the thought of telling Gilbert how he felt was terrifying. Even if he never got over the albino, he knew he’d never be able to tell him about the crush. Talking about his feelings wasn’t something Matt had ever been good at, even with his mother. It was just easier to keep things to himself.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Alfred asked after several moments of silence had gone by.

“I don’t know. Nothing. What can I do? He doesn’t like me back and I’ll only be in this country until I graduate so a long-term relationship wouldn’t work out, anyway.” Getting up, Matthew climbed up into his loft and shoved his face into his pillow, sighing heavily. “Please don’t tell anyone, Alfred.”

“My lips are sealed, dude.” To make his point, Alfred moved his hand over his mouth in a zipping motion, pretended to lock it and then threw the imaginary key out the window. “Sorry I can’t be much help. If you were gonna tell him, I’d actually be able to give you some advice or something, but you obviously don’t wanna do that.”

“Not really.”

“Yeah. Would you, if he did like you back?”

Matthew propped himself up on his elbows and peered down at where Alfred was still sitting cross-legged on his own bed. “Tell him? Probably not…I’d be too nervous. Besides, Gilbert’s a big enough flirt that he wouldn’t hesitate to make the first move if he liked me.”

The older boy smirked a little. “I’d have thought he already did that, when he backed you up against your ladder a couple weeks ago.”

It had only been a week and a half since that incident, but naturally, the memory was still fresh in Matthew’s mind. He was still embarrassed by the fact that Alfred had been awake and secretly watched the entire thing. “That’s different. He was just messing around. He already told me he doesn’t think I’m sexy.”

“Dude, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to date you, it just means he isn’t interested in you for just your body,” Alfred explained as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and Matthew suddenly felt like a naïve child to not have realized that himself. “Which is good, cause if he likes you, then it’s because of your personality or whatever.”

“Oh…well, still. He also said that he wouldn’t mess up our friendship with relationships or sex or anything like that.”

As if he hadn’t a care in the world, Alfred stretched out on his bed again. “That still doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you, bro.”

Matt didn’t know what to say to that, so he settled for nuzzling into his pillow—after taking his glasses off, of course—as his thoughts whirled around in turmoil. Could Gilbert actually like him back? No, no, he didn’t. Even though what Alfred said made sense. No! Thinking like that would only make it harder to get over his feelings for the albino and that was the opposite of what Matthew wanted. Gilbert definitely wasn’t interested in him for a relationship beyond being friends. Definitely not.

_Even if he_ does _like me…that still doesn’t make it okay for him to lie to a professor and say I’m his boyfriend. And to say we were sexting! I’ve never done anything like that in my life! I know he only said it to get out of trouble, but that was a little much. I might actually have to be mad at him later. Just a little._

He wasn’t actually mad. Just embarrassed, because he knew Gilbert was the kind of guy who would actually sext in class and the fact that Matt was the one who’d been texting him at the time made him feel like he was somehow partially responsible for the lie. So he’d give the older boy a lecture about texting in class and lying because that was the only way to cover up that he was embarrassed about it, and if he had to act a little angry, well, then he would. Besides, acting a little angry was a lot different from actually getting mad. Matthew didn’t like to get mad and he certainly didn’t want Gilbert to see him if he was ever genuinely angry at the albino. That would ruin their friendship for sure. No, it was better to lecture him a little, even though he knew the older boy wouldn’t take him seriously, and then try to forget the whole thing had even happened. Things would go back to normal and that would be the end of it. He hoped it would be, at least.


	8. Chapter 8

“Just promise me you won’t do it again. Please.”

“Okay, okay. I promise.”

Relieved, Matt let his hands fall from his hips as a small smile replaced the frown he’d kept in place for the last fifteen minutes or so as he lectured the boy sitting at his desk. To his surprise, Gilbert had sat quietly through the lecture without so much as rolling his eyes and seemed genuinely sorry that he’d upset the Canadian, which was more than Matt had been expecting. And now that the promise had been made that Gilbert wouldn’t tell such a lie again—especially involving Matthew—he could stop acting angry and enjoy the evening as had originally been planned.

“Thank you. Now, what movie do you want to watch?”

A grin that was a little more mischievous than normal found its way onto Gilbert’s face. “Ever seen _Dead Snow_?”

Matt wasn’t sure if he liked the sound of that. “No…”

The grin widened and Matthew became convinced that he wasn’t going to like this. “Zhen ve’re vatching it because you definitely have to see it.” Gilbert took a CD case out of his bag and flipped through it for a few moments before selecting a disc and getting up to put it in Matt’s portable DVD player. As the blond took the player and climbed up into his loft, Gil shut off the light to enhance their movie viewing experience then climbed up after him.

“Is it a horror movie?” Matthew could only assume it was, considering the title. He waited as Gilbert settled beside him, setting the DVD player on the bed and leaning back against the wall. To his surprise, Gilbert put an arm around his shoulders.

“Yep, but don’t vorry, if you get scared, I’ll be right here,” the albino teased, smirking. Matt resisted the urge to smack the older boy’s knee as Gilbert leaned forward and pushed the Play button, but he didn’t protest being so close to the albino.

Within moments, the beginning credits began as the screen displayed snow-covered mountains in the evening just before it became completely dark. There was someone running that seemed to be a girl, and she was being chased by what appeared to be two men in military uniforms. After several moments, she tripped and fell a short distance down the mountainside before coming to a stop beside a tree. She spent the next few seconds looking around for her pursuers only to decide that she’d lost them.

Matthew grew tenser with every passing second. Something was going to pop out. He knew something was going to pop out and it would probably scare him half to death like always. It was always the worst when he knew something was coming because the longer it took, the tenser he got until it finally happened and then he’d just about die of fright. But when it took him by surprise, he’d just jump a little bit and that was it. It just happened to be his luck that he knew the monster or the bad guy was going to appear out of nowhere and he was about to shove his face into Gilbert’s shoulder to hide when suddenly a half-decomposed snarling face filled the screen. The scream from the movie was almost drowned out by Matthew’s startled shriek as he jumped and grabbed onto the fabric of Gilbert’s shirt.

Immediately, Gilbert burst out laughing while Matt stared at the DVD player with wide eyes and panted lightly. He _knew_ that was going to happen! _Why_ did he always get so worked up over scary movies? This was why he didn’t usually watch them, and Gilbert’s laughter certainly wasn’t helping.

“Shut up,” the blond mumbled, embarrassed. “It isn’t funny.”

“ _Nein,_ it’s hilarious,” Gilbert replied, his eyes watering from the force of his laughter. Neither boy was paying any attention to the movie as it continued to play, now showing two cars on their way up into the same mountains during the day time. One car had four boys in it, the other had three girls. “I don’t zhink I’ve ever heard you be zhat loud before.”

“Well it’s not like I can control it when I get scared!”

Gilbert chuckled. “ _Ja,_ but I vouldn’t have taken you for a screamer, Matzhew.”

A blush heated Matt’s face and he looked down at his lap. A screamer? Wasn’t that the term for someone who was extremely loud during sex? Matt wasn’t a screamer. He didn’t think he was, at least. Not that he had any idea about what he was like during sex because, well, he’d never had sex or even kissed anyone. But being called a screamer by Gilbert was…not quite embarrassing. It was something that he wasn’t entirely sure of. Part of him wanted to argue that he most certainly was not a screamer because he was too shy for something like that.

But he also felt a near irresistible urge to say that it wasn’t any of Gilbert’s business what he was like in bed and that the albino would never have the opportunity to find out. And he wanted to say it in the most flirtatious tone he could manage because he knew Gilbert would flirt back, and he want to flirt with the boy sitting beside him more than he would ever admit. Only Matthew had never flirted in his life and that was the only reason he managed to hold back now—he definitely didn’t want to try to clumsily flirt with Gilbert, especially while he was practically clinging to the albino already.

“I’m a…what?” He decided to play dumb.

“A screamer. You know, someone zhat screams or yells vhen zhey get startled or scared.”

Oh, _that_ kind of screamer. So Matthew had taken it in the completely wrong way by assuming it had been a sexual comment. Great. Now _he_ was being the pervert when that was supposed to be Gilbert’s job. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I am.”

Gilbert nodded before settling back against the wall again. “Now, I promise zhere are only a few moments like zhat vone, so vee can vatch zhis vizhout you getting too scared, all right?”

“All right.” Even though he wasn’t all that interested in watching the rest of this movie, he was willing to put up with it to spend time with Gilbert. Besides, he’d insisted that the albino be the one to choose the movie and now he had to live with the consequences of his decision. So he relaxed again and leaned against the older boy slightly, enjoying the warmth that Gilbert was giving off a little more than he probably should have been. Not that the other student seemed to mind all that much—Matt could have sworn he saw Gilbert smirk out of the corner of his eye, and he thought for sure that the arm around his shoulders had actually tightened a little as if the albino wanted him even closer. But that, of course, was preposterous.

By the time the movie ended, Matt had jumped at least four more times, though he managed to bite his lip and squeak a little rather than shriek like that first time. The first scare was always the worst one. Gilbert hadn’t helped at all. His arm had tightened whenever something was about to pop out so that Matt always knew when something was coming and then he started to get tense. It was actually impressive that he hadn’t screamed more than just the once.

“Okay, next time, I’m picking the movie.”

Gilbert laughed as he took his movie out of the DVD player and put it back in his CD case. “Sure, Matt.” Just as the albino was climbing down out of the loft, the door opened and in came Alfred, followed by his usual crowd of friends. The blond flicked on the light switch then froze to see Gilbert, only to relax a moment later when he noticed Matthew still on the lofted bed.

“Hey, Mattie. Hey, Gilbert,” he greeted them both cheerfully, moving to sit on his bed as his friends claimed seats of their own. “What’s up?”

“We just finished a movie,” Matthew replied.

“What movie?”

It was Gilbert’s turn to answer. “ _Dead Snow._ Ten college kids go on vacation in zhe mountains and are attacked by zombie Nazis.”

Alfred shuddered visibly as his friends smirked. “I hate scary movies.”

Well, that was another thing Matthew had in common with his half-brother, then. “So do I, but I made the mistake of letting him pick what we were going to watch.”

Grinning, Gilbert turned to look up at the younger boy. “And you get to pick next time, so stop vhining.”

“Zhey are cute togezher, no?”

The question had Gilbert whirling back around to glare at the speaker, his red eyes narrowing dangerously. “Did you say somezhing, priss?”

Calm blue eyes regarded him and Francis tucked a bit of his blond hair behind his ear. “’Ave I offended you, Gilbert?”

Gil tensed visibly when he saw how relaxed and calm the other student was. It bothered him that Francis had been the one to make a comment about him and Matthew. The Frenchman hadn’t tried to say anything at all to him since his texts a week and a half ago but Gilbert wasn’t anywhere close to forgetting about it. Just looking at Francis was making him nervous and he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking if the blond had impregnated anyone lately just to make the other boy mad.

“ _Nein_ , I vould have to care about vhat you zhink to be offended by any of zhe shit you say,” he replied as calmly as he could, “but zhat vill never happen, so don’t vorry about offending me.”

Francis chuckled, his eyes falling shut as he tilted his head down slightly. When he looked up again, hints of a smirk sat at the corner of his mouth as if he was just barely managing to maintain that pleasant smile. “But of course, Gilbert. I wouldn’t expect you to be offended by _moi._ Zhough, I zhink you are per’aps unhappy wizh zhe fact zhat you ‘ave not managed to sleep wizh zhe boy yet.”

At that, Gilbert’s face turned almost as red as his eyes. He couldn’t help it. Francis had just accused him of only wanting sex from Matthew right in front of the shy blond plus several other students that Matthew knew and saw on a regular basis, including his half-brother. It was a low blow, one that he should have seen coming.

“You’ve got it all wrong, prissy pants.” His blush fading, the albino smirked as his arms folded over his chest; he jerked his head towards Matthew to indicate the blond. “If I vanted to sleep vizh Matzhew, I’d have done it by now. Like I said before, ve are just friends.” Gilbert turned his back on the other boys in the room and offered Matthew a friendly smile. To his relief, the blond met his gaze and, even though he could tell that Matt was extremely embarrassed by all this, the Canadian sent him a small, grateful smile to show that he was all right. “Good night, Matzhew. I vill see you tomorrow.”

“Night, Gilbert,” Matt responded in a voice that was even quieter than usual, but Gilbert heard him. He waved, then picked up his bag and left the dorm without so much as a glance at Francis.

The moment the door closed, Matthew could feel every other pair of eyes in the dorm on himself and wanted nothing more than to hide under his blankets until they all went away. He knew Alfred was looking at him with sympathy or maybe even pity—they’d just discussed Matt’s feelings for Gilbert earlier that day, after all—and the rest of them were probably curious about what had just happened.

Apparently, Francis was under the impression that Gilbert was interested in Matt for sexual purposes.

“So…” Alfred was the first to break the silence, “what do you guys wanna do?”

“I think he likes him.”

Frowning in a confused sort of way, the blond American turned his attention to the brunet lounging on the foot of his bed. “What?”

Antonio grinned lazily as his green eyes rested on Matthew. “Your brother. I think he likes Gilbert. Look how he’s blushing. Very _lindo, no?_ Very cute? He’s embarrassed that Francis suggested they are together.”

His comment made Matthew’s face turn an even darker shade of red and the blond lowered his eyes to avoid seeing the way some of Al’s other friends were smirking.

“ _Si,_ he definitely likes him.” The Spaniard obviously had no doubts about it.

“Well, you know how shy he is,” Alfred responded as casually as he could. “Hearing someone talk about his sex life is embarrassing. Anyone would blush. Right, Mattie?”

Oh, god, why was Al bringing him into this? He just wanted to read his book until it was time to go to bed, not have to defend himself in front of all of Alfred’s friends. They were all older than him and Antonio figured out that he liked Gilbert and Francis thought Gil wanted to sleep with him it was just…it was too much. He didn’t want to be part of any of this conversation—really, he could immerse himself in his book and easily forget any of this had ever happened. But Alfred and the others were still waiting for a response, so Matthew nodded a little.

“Yeah.” The word was barely more than a whisper, but they all knew what he’d said because he’d already nodded.

“I still think he likes Gil.”

Darn that Spaniard.

“N-no, I,” he tried to protest, but then the largest male in the room, Alfred’s friend Ivan, interrupted him.

“He is being nervous. Listen how he stutters—he cannot talk. I agree with Antonio.” Despite the thick accent, they could all understand what he was saying. “Mathew is liking Gilbert.”

Matthew felt like he was shrinking under the eyes of the older students. Ivan’s unnerved him—they were an odd shade of violet that no one would ever expect to see in a human—and they stared at him unblinkingly so that he became convinced the Russian could see directly into his soul and _knew_ that he liked Gilbert.

Antonio’s expression was lazily triumphant because he was still convinced that he was right about Matthew no matter what Alfred said, and the support from Ivan was just making him even more convinced about it.

Francis, the one who’d started all of this, didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the conversation he’d caused. Instead, he was looking out the window with a small smile as he examined the outside world with keen concentration.

The smallest of the group, a quiet Asian boy called Wang Yao, was looking between Alfred and Matthew curiously as if he thought they might be communicating somehow and didn’t want to miss anything. But Matthew had looked away again and was fiddling with the hem of his comforter because he really didn’t want to continue talking about this.

“Do you want to sleep with him, Matthew? We won’t judge you, _si lo hace._ Gilbert can be very… _seductor,_ when he wants to be.”

_Seductor? _Matthew didn’t speak Spanish, but he still knew what Antonio was saying. And he was right. Gilbert could be sexy and if Matt was completely honest about it, he probably would sleep with the albino if he wasn’t so painfully shy and terrified of disappointing the older boy or being abandoned afterwards.__

__  
_ _

“ _Oui, il peut être ... mais je ne veux pas dormir avec lui. Il est juste mon ami,_ ” Matthew responded quietly, slipping into his second language because it was easier to speak French when he was upset or embarrassed. What he hadn’t counted on was for Francis to suddenly turn from the window and look up at him with renewed interest.

“ _Tu parle français?_ ” the blue-eyed blond asked, his head tilted to the side just slightly so that his long-ish hair framed his face elegantly.

_Wow…he’s really good-looking…_ Matthew felt his face heat up the moment he realized what he’d just been thinking. “ _O-oui._ ”

A smile that was oddly beautiful lit Francis’ face as the other students exchanged knowing glances that Matthew didn’t notice—he was too busy staring at Francis because the older boy was smiling at him as if Matt was the most brilliant thing he’d ever seen.

“ _Wonderful!_ This is fantastic! You must spend more time with us, _Matthieu! Je insiste!_ ” The Frenchman seemed absolutely _gleeful_ to invite Matt to hang out with them, but the Canadian wasn’t entirely sure if he should accept. Nervously, he glanced at the other students in the room and saw nothing but small smiles and encouraging nods. Even Alfred looked pleased that Francis had taken a liking to him.

“U-um…sure… _j’aimerais._ ” He never thought he’d have the opportunity to accept an invitation to spend time with Alfred and his friends outside the dorm. And an invitation from _Francis_ , the elegant flirt that Gilbert called a priss. If anything, he would have thought Alfred would be the one to ask him to come along out of guilt for not including his younger half-brother more. But Matt would have politely declined a pity invitation. Francis seemed to genuinely want him to come along—his smile had widened at Matt’s response.

“ _Parfait._ ”

Even though he wasn’t sure what about this was “perfect,” as Francis put it, Matt couldn’t help but return the older boy’s smile. Things were changing faster than he’d ever expected, and he had a feeling they were changing for the better.

X

Fuck.

This was not good. This was _far_ from good. It was terrible, a complete disaster.

“Zhis vas not supposed to happen. How did zhis happen?” He wanted to pace but he was too tense to move, so he stood completely still in the middle of the room as Gilbird watched him curiously. The small bird had sensed that something was wrong with his master and therefore kept his distance to allow Gilbert to focus on whatever was bothering the albino. But Gilbert wasn’t having any luck with sorting things out.

He’d never intended to halfway cuddle Matthew during the movie. Really, he hadn’t. And yet he hadn’t even tried to resist when the desire to have the blond snuggled into his side hit him like a bolt of lightning. Matt was just so cute and then when the movie had scared him, Gil had wanted to coddle him and hug him and kiss his forehead and—

Wait. _What?_

“Zhis cannot be happening! It _can’t!_ I don’t like Matzhew as anyzhing more zhan a friend! I shouldn’t vant to kiss him!” he cried as the realization that he was developing feelings for the Canadian crashed down on him. “Ve’re friends and zhat’s it! No more! No cuddling or snuggling or kissing! Argh!”

Burying his face in his hands, he pressed against his eyes until purple and blue swirls appeared over the blackness. It was lucky that Ludwig hadn’t been in the dorm when he’d gotten back, otherwise he’d have had to pretend that nothing was wrong, and he was really terrible at hiding things from his little brother. There was something about those stupid blue eyes that made him feel like admitting to every wrong thing he’d ever done in his life, and the only way he could fight that was to act angry and gruff. So it was good that he had the dorm to himself for now.

“Idiot. _Schweinehund._ How could you do zhis? You vill risk your friendship vizh him, and vhat happens if you vant to kiss him again? Vhat if you vant to sleep vizh him? You are incapable of saying no to sex…but if you ask, he vill reject you. He vill not vant to be your friend anymore, and you vill be alone again. Do you vant to go back to zhat? _Nein._ Never. So keep control of yourself, _sie pathetisch idiot._ ”

Right. Okay. He could do this. He could definitely control himself around Matthew. No problem. It wasn’t like he was in love with the Canadian, he was just…affectionate. Yeah. There was nothing wrong with being affectionate towards his best friend. Nothing at all.


	9. Chapter 9

Shoulders touching just slightly, Matthew and Gilbert sat side by side as they leaned back against a large rock. They were in a part of campus that Gil had never explored before, and the albino was actually kind of glad that Matt had chosen to bring him here. It was nice. Quiet. Peaceful. It was just the kind of place Matthew would know about.

Red eyes perused the boys’ surroundings, taking in the ring of smallish boulders they were sitting amongst and the tall old pines beyond those. There was a larger boulder set in the center of the ring that was flat enough to comfortably lay on—it was probably a great spot for stargazing—and Gilbert thought he might do just that some night.

For now, though, it was mid-afternoon and sunny, there was a cool breeze that kept them comfortable, and Gilbert was having a hard time not kicking off his boots and stretching out in the shade for a nap. He was supposed to be doing homework like Matt was, but he didn’t want to. It was too nice out to bother with schoolwork. Besides, his classes were decidedly un-awesome and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to waste his time on them. So he was procrastinating.

“People could have sex here.”

It was said so casually that Matthew didn’t register it right away. When there was no response, Gilbert turned to look at the other boy only to find that the blond had frozen. His face was quickly turning red and wide blue-violet eyes stared unseeingly at the book in his hands.

“Earzh to Matzhew,” the albino called, and Matt blinked once.

“’People could have sex here,’” he repeated, then met Gilbert’s eyes. “What on earth made you think that?”

“Vell,” Gilbert scooted forward so he could lie back in the grass, his hands tucked under his head and his ankles crossed, “they could.”

“But _why_ did you think of that? You’re supposed to be doing homework, not thinking about sex,” the blond pointed out, looking slightly embarrassed at the turn their day had just taken.

Gil couldn’t help but smirk a little. “Are you really zhat surprised?”

They stared at each other for a few moments before Matthew sighed. “No, I’m not.”

His response made the older student laugh, Gil’s shoulders shaking slightly with the force. Matthew rolled his eyes and playfully smacked the albino’s chest, which only gave Gilbert the opportunity to grab hold of the younger boy and pull him down onto the grass to lie beside himself. Before Matt could even react, he found himself on his back in the grass, his glasses slightly askew as Gilbert halfway hovered over him. The albino had turned onto his side and was holding himself up on his elbow with his other arm stretched over Matt’s torso to brace his hand in the grass, which put their faces much closer together than either boy could remember happening before this.

And Gilbert couldn’t pull away even though he tried. He really did try, but the way Matthew was looking up at him was…mesmerizing? Hypnotic? Neither of those sounded right, but regardless, he was completely helpless to look away. Seriously, how had he not immediately noticed how incredibly attractive the Canadian was? With his pale skin that was so often tinged by a light blush and the one unruly curl that stuck out from the rest of his soft-looking blond hair.

Being this close to him, it was impossible to ignore that Matthew, while skinny, was anything but bony, and his slightly-parted lips looked so kissable that Gilbert was strongly tempted to see what they tasted like. It wasn’t even necessary to wonder why he was so fascinated by the younger boy’s eyes. Honestly, how many people had eyes that were blue-violet? Not many, and yet he’d somehow discovered Matthew to have them. They were really quite, well, beautiful. Matthew was beautiful. Not that Gilbert would ever say it out loud—he was more likely to call the blond awesome.

_He really is. Damn it, how am I supposed to shove back my feelings for him if I can’t look at him wizhout zhinking how…awesome…he is? Vhy couldn’t I make friends vizh some ugly bastard vizh an awesome personality? Matzhew is awesome in every vay and now I like him because of it. Zis is totally not awesome._

“Uh…G-Gilbert?”

The albino leaned imperceptibly closer to Matthew. “ _Ja?_ ”

A blush began spreading over the Canadian’s face and he shyly looked away from Gilbert’s red eyes. “Could you let me up, please?”

That was the last thing Gilbert wanted to do at that moment. Matt’s face was only a few inches away and it would be the easiest thing in the world to get rid of the space that Gilbert suddenly hated. He wanted to kiss him. It was stupid how much he wanted to kiss the overly shy student that was practically underneath him.

_Do it. Kiss him._

_Nein. He’s my friend. I von’t do somezhing zhat stupid._

_You vant to. Look at him. You vant to kiss him and touch him and you’d fuck him, too, if he’d let you. You know it’s true._

_Nein!_

_Do it!_

“Gilbert, are you all right?”

Snapping out of his internal battle, the white-haired student forced a grin. “ _Ja,_ of course I am.” He ignored Matthew’s concerned expression and sat up, stretching so as to avoid making eye contact with the blond. That had been close—he’d almost kissed Matt!

_Idiot. Get a hold of yourself._

A quick glance confirmed that the blond was still looking at him, brow furrowed in a slight frown. “If you’re sure.” He didn’t sound at all convinced, but luckily he sat up again and went back to doing his homework, leaving Gilbert free to mentally berate himself for being so stupid.

That had been so fucking close.

He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, especially if such a large part of him wanted to be with Matt on a physical level that went beyond friendship. Yes, the Canadian was cute. He was shy and quiet and smart and adorable and funny and pretty good at cuddling when they watched movies. But that didn’t mean that Gilbert had the right to kiss him or do any of the other things his brain accused him of wanting to do. Especially the bit about wanting to fuck him. That was definitely out of the question. There would be no kissing or touching and absolutely _no sex_. He shouldn’t even think about sex while he was around Matt. Sure, he thought about sex a lot. Sex was great. Gilbert loved sex and he was attracted to Matt so naturally he was going to think about having sex with the younger boy but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t try not to. Besides, it would be really awkward if he got a boner thinking about Matthew while he was sitting next to Matthew and shit what if the blond saw?

Just the thought made him feel slightly ill. He’d be more embarrassed by that than he’d ever been or ever would be in his entire life. And he got mad when he got embarrassed, which meant he would snap at Matt, and he really didn’t want to do that. It wasn’t the blond’s fault that Gilbert liked him—well okay it was but he couldn’t exactly blame the Canadian—and it wasn’t his fault if the albino let his mind wander and ended up getting aroused. He was just going to have to be careful.

“Hey.” Something touched his arm and he turned to find that Matthew had been silently watching him for at least a few moments. “Are you okay? You look kind of upset.”

His signature grin made its appearance and he winked at his friend. “Awesome as alvays!”

Matthew didn’t look at all convinced. “Gil—” Before he could say whatever it was that he was thinking, his eyes shifted over to look at something that was behind Gilbert and he abruptly fell silent, though his hand remained where it was.

“Dude, I didn’t know the fags hung out over here.”

Instantly, Matthew’s face turned a deep red and he lowered his eyes, looking as if he was about to burst into to tears. The word had made Gilbert tense, and he very slowly turned around to look at whoever had spoken. Two boys who had been walking by were stopped on the sidewalk just past the rocks and trees. One of them was looking at Gilbert and Matthew in blatant disgust while the other was staring at the sidewalk and didn’t look like he was comfortable with the way things were going all of a sudden.

“Vhat did you just say?” the albino asked calmly, red eyes locked on the boy who had spoken.

“You two are fags, right?” His tone was disdainful and he met Gilbert’s gaze without hesitation. “That’s sick, man.”

Gilbert could feel Matthew’s hand tightening on his arm, could feel his nails starting to dig into his skin a little. A quiet sniffling sound reached him and he knew right away that the younger boy was either trying desperately not to cry or was already crying and just trying to be quiet about it. Either way, Gilbert wasn’t okay with it. He wasn’t okay with the fact that Matt was upset and he wasn’t okay with the fact that this dickhead thought he could strut around campus and call people fags just because he thought he owned the place. And calling them sick, too? Like this school wasn’t a Safe Zone? Obviously, he wasn’t aware of the fairly large number of LGBT students they had here, Gilbert and his brother included.

“You better be careful,” he warned, “zhere are a lot of us ‘fags’ around here.”

The stranger’s expression morphed into a glare and he stepped forward before his friend could stop him. “Are you threatening me?”

“ _Nein._ ” Still calm, Gilbert took hold of Matt’s hand and stood, pulling the blond to his feet, as well. He then proceeded to bring the Canadian close into an intimate hug and smirked at the glaring boy. “Just letting you know zhat not all of us vill shrug you off. You call zhe wrong man a ‘fag’ and you’ll end up vishing you’d kept your bitch mouzh shut.”

“G-Gilbert, what’re you doing…?”

He ignored the mumbled question, choosing instead to just hug Matt a little harder to reassure him as he kept his red eyes on the stranger.

“Come on, man, let’s go,” the other unfamiliar boy muttered, grabbing onto his friend’s sleeve and trying to pull him away. It took several tugs to get the offensive teenager to budge.

“Yeah, he’s not worth it. I wouldn’t want to touch him, anyway. He might infect me.”

Rage boiled up in Gilbert but he refused to let it show. Infect, huh? Then the bitch would love this.

Grinning, he pulled one arm free of Matt and blew a kiss at the two boys as they started to turn to leave. “See you around, sexy.”

The boy who had started all of this was about to storm over to them but his friend was quick to grab onto his sleeve again and dragged him away. Not until they were out of sight did Gilbert finally let his eyes lower so he was looking at the top of Matthew’s head.

“You all right?” he asked quietly, switching his hold on the younger boy to hug him in a more comforting way.

Matthew nodded just slightly, his hands tightly gripping the fabric of Gil’s shirt. “ _O-oui…Je suis très bien…_ ”

Hearing him speak French made Gilbert smile even though he knew the blond had only slipped into the language because he was upset; it was cute, regardless.

“Liar,” he whispered, then started rubbing his friend’s back in a slow, soothing motion. “Zhat guy doesn’t matter, Matzhew. He’s just a jerk vizh a big mouzh.”

“I-I know. It’s j-just…I thought I g-got away from that by coming h-here…”

Gil frowned a little, confused. “I zhought Canada vas pro-equality.”

“It is, but there are still people who don’t like…people like me.”

“People like us,” the albino corrected gently. “You vere bullied for liking boys?”

“ _Oui_.” He spoke so softly that Gilbert almost didn’t hear him, and he sounded so small and scared and ashamed that it just about broke his heart.

The best thing to do would be to comfort him, assure him that it was all right and that Gil understood how he felt. Except he couldn’t say that because he personally had never been bullied for being bisexual. He didn’t know what it felt like to be hated just because he was attracted to another male—no one had ever had the nerve to say something to him about it, until today. Still, he had to say _something_ to help Matt feel better about all this.

Gently, he held the blond even closer and sighed. “Zhere’s nozhing wrong vizh you, Mattie. Zhere’s nozhing wrong vizh you or me or _mein bruder_ or anyvone who is like us. Zhat bastard is zhe vone who is sick, _und_ so are zhose who bullied you in Canada. Zhey are close-minded and mean nozhing. Forget about zhem, _ja?_ ”

It was quiet for a few moments, then Matt pulled away enough to look up at the older student and offered a watery smile. “ _Oui. Merci,_ Gilbert.”

“ _Gern geschehen, Matzhew._ ”

They smiled at each other, both shy and a little nervous about being so close to each other while so emotionally vulnerable. Once again, Gilbert found himself close enough to kiss the other boy and damn but he wanted to. This time, though, it was easy to resist because he could tell that Matt was still upset even though he wasn’t showing it. Kissing him was a bad idea anyway but doing it now would just be that much worse.

Clearing his throat, he released his hold on the younger student and took a step back. “Are you finished vizh your homevork or can ve go do somezhing fun?”

Blue-violet eyes glanced at the books that lay forgotten in the grass. “What did you have in mind?”

They decided to go for a walk, after dropping their books off in their dorms first, of course. It was nice to wander around the city, forgetting about school and bullies, talking about anything and everything they wanted. Hands in their pockets, they never walked more than a foot away from each other.

“Thank you, Gilbert,” Matthew said quietly after they’d walked in silence for several moments. The albino shifted his attention from the sunset to the boy beside him.

“For vhat?”

“Standing up to that guy. I, well, I never really try to defend myself when people like him pick on me.” His expression was a mixture of guilt and regret. “I’m never brave enough.”

Gil couldn’t help but raise one white eyebrow. “You zhink I’m brave for zhat?”

“Yes.” A weak smile lifted the corners of Matt’s mouth. “You were really cool about it. He didn’t even know what to do.”

As much as it pleased him to be called brave, especially by Matt, Gilbert knew he hadn’t handled the bully as well as he should have. Like usual, he’d let his impulsive side take over when he probably should have simply ignored the bastard. But he’d never been good at controlling his impulses.

“I’m not as brave as you zhink I am,” he said quietly, watching the pavement beneath his feet.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t stand up to him because I’m brave. I did it because he vas looking to start a fight, and I vould have fought him vizhout hesitating. I don’t back down from fights, especially against bitchy little dicks like zhat guy.”

_And he upset you. I couldn’t let him get avay vizh zhat._

Matt bumped shoulders with the older boy and smiled when Gilbert looked at him. “But you don’t go looking for fights, either. You’re brave, Gilbert, even if you don’t believe it, and I think you would have won if you got in a fight with him.”

He couldn’t help but smile a little—Matthew really thought he was brave. “Damn right I vould have von.”

They both laughed then, and the seriousness faded back to the comfortable quiet they’d been sharing a few minutes ago. The sun was almost completely gone now, sinking below the horizon as the streetlights came on.

“We didn’t eat dinner,” Matt commented to break the short silence, and Gilbert glanced at him.

“Are you hungry?”

The Canadian shrugged, the movement nearly imperceptible due to his oversized hoody. “A little.”

A grin slid into place and Gilbert slung an arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders. “Zhen let’s get somezhing to eat. I’m buying.” Using his hold on Matt, he steered the blond around a corner and began heading towards the street near campus where all the restaurants and stores were set up—they’d definitely be able to find something to eat there.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” Matthew protested, though he didn’t pull away from the albino. “I have money.”

“I vant to. You vouldn’t refuse an offer from a friend, vould you?”

Matthew’s face scrunched up in a frowning pout and Gilbert almost kissed his nose because it was so cute.

“No, I suppose not,” he gave in after a moment, and the older boy grinned.

“Good. Now, vhere vould you like to go? Pick vherever you vant.”

The blond considered the options as they began walking down the street, his eyes drifting over the glowing signs of different places to eat. “Can we go to the one that always sells breakfast food?”

“ _Ja,_ of course.” He didn’t know the name of the restaurant Matthew was talking about, but he knew where it was, so he began walking down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace, his arm still around the blond’s shoulders. They’d just reached the restaurant—turned out to be called IHOP—when Gilbert had the sudden realization that he was technically taking Matt out for dinner.

_Is…is zhis a date?_

It seemed absurd, considering he hadn’t asked the Canadian out or anything of the sort. Just because he wanted to kiss him didn’t mean they were suddenly going on a date together. Besides, it was just a late dinner and he was buying because Matt had been so upset that buying him dinner was the least Gil could do to try to make him feel better. So this definitely wasn’t a date.

A waitress with a pretty smile stood at a small podium a little ways inside the door, waiting to greet them as they approached. “Welcome to IHOP. Just the two of you this evening?”

“ _Ja,_ I mean, yes, just us.” He still had his arm around Matt.

“This way, please.” She led them to a small booth in a corner of the restaurant where they would have privacy from the ten or so other customers already seated. Gilbert somewhat reluctantly took his arm back and sat on the cushioned bench as Matt slid into the booth to sit across from him. The waitress smiled again as she handed each boy a menu. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A coke, please,” Gil responded, then looked at Matthew to signal that it was his turn. Normally, he would have ordered beer, but he didn’t want to drink around Matt. That would be inviting trouble, and he really wasn’t interested in trouble at the moment, so he decided on a coke.

Matt gave the waitress a shy smile. “I’ll have chocolate milk.”

“All right, I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menus and be right back with your drinks.” She turned and walked away, heading to the kitchen to fetch their drinks while Gilbert blatantly watched her walk away, his eyes tracking the swinging movement of her hips—she was kind of sexy. Which only made him think about how dangerously close he’d come to kissing Matt earlier, and that in turn led him to realize that it had been a really long time since he’d last gotten laid and he really wasn’t okay with that. The Awesome Him wasn’t used to having to go without.

“What are you staring at?”

“Huh?” The waitress had disappeared several moments ago yet Gilbert’s gaze had remained locked on the door she’d vanished through as his train of thought wound its way through his head. Now that Matthew had said something, though, he refocused on the blond’s face and grinned a little. “Nozhing, just spacing off. So, vhat are you going to order?”

Matthew didn’t bother looking through his menu. “Pancakes.”

Of course. He really should have seen that coming; Matthew practically worshipped pancakes and drowned them in more syrup than Gilbert had ever seen anyone use before. On the other hand, he didn’t know the menu very well and spent the next few minutes trying to decide what he wanted.

Bacon, definitely. He wanted bacon. Or maybe sausage. Both? Yeah, both would be perfect. And some hash browns because come on, who didn’t love potatoes? With scrambled eggs. Lots of scrambled eggs.

“You make a funny face when you’re focused.”

“Vhat?” He looked up from his menu to find Matt watching him with an amused smile.

“When you’re thinking, you make this face.” The blond imitated it, his eyebrows drawing together in a slight frown as his lips pursed and twisted to the right. He appeared to be deep in thought before his smile returned. “You do that a lot. What are you always thinking about?”

Gilbert didn’t know what to say for a second; he’d never realized that he made a face while he was thinking. “Just now I vas trying to decide vhat to order. But, usually, I zhink about how awesome I am _und_ how lucky you are to have me as your friend.”

That made the younger boy laugh and Gilbert chuckled. A moment later, their waitress returned with Gil’s coke and Matt’s chocolate milk. “Do you know what you would like to order?”

Matt didn’t look at her this time, his eyes glued to Gilbert. “I’ll have the pancake stack, please.”

The older boy stared right back at him, a smirk lingering around his mouth. “Zhe scrambled egg platter, _und_ I vould like bacon and hash browns, _freuen_ , vizh an extra side of sausage.”

Her pen made a quiet scratching sound as she wrote the order down. “I’ll have those out as soon as they’re ready.”

Then she walked away, though neither boy was paying attention. They were still staring at each other, because this was the first time they’d left campus together, and the first time Gilbert had ever stood up for someone else against bullies for a reason other than that he was in the mood for a fight.

_Ask him out. Vhat harm can it do?_

It could make Matthew uncomfortable to be around him, could add a sense of awkwardness to their friendship that wasn’t currently there. Telling him how he felt was a bad idea.

_He’s your best friend. He von’t abandon you like Francis und Antonio did._

True, but that still didn’t make it a good idea. And besides, hadn’t he told the blond before that, while he found him cute, he wasn’t physically attracted to him? If he were to suddenly change his mind, it would confuse him and that was just as bad as making him uncomfortable.

“You’re doing it again,” Matthew said softly, meaning Gilbert was making that face he apparently always made when he was thinking. The albino blinked then grinned.

“Zhat is because I am so awesome that it takes a lot of time to zhink about how awesome I am. You really are very lucky to have me as your best friend.” His tone took on a teasing edge for the last bit, and he watched Matthew take a drink of his milk because he knew the blond was only doing it to keep from blushing or rolling his eyes. The Canadian had noticed that Gilbert made a face, and it boosted his ego to know that Matthew paid enough attention to him to recognize it. But he wasn’t going to ask him out, or confess to his feelings. This wasn’t a date, and they weren’t together even though the jerk from earlier obviously thought they were.

They were best friends, and Gilbert was determined to be content with that.


	10. Chapter 10

“You have syrup on your chin.”

“Hm?” Looking up from the plate of maple syrup-soaked pancakes he’d been consuming, Matthew found Gilbert looking at him with a small smile on his lips. He blushed at the attention and reached for his napkin to wipe away the syrup.

“You missed.”

Dang it.

Gilbert was smirking now. “It’s still zhere, Matt.” Reaching across the table, the albino took the napkin out of Matthew’s hand and used it to wipe off the syrup that had somehow escaped onto the blond’s chin. “Zhere.”

“Thanks.” It was embarrassing to have his chin wiped, especially by the guy he liked while they were in a restaurant on a weird friend-date-thing.

_No, not a date. It’s not a date. We just didn’t go to dinner earlier so we’re eating now. And he paid for me because he’s my friend. That’s it. Not a date._

It felt kind of like a date, though, considering they’d walked around together all afternoon and evening, and of course they’d flirted. Matthew wasn’t even upset about the guy who had bothered them anymore. Rather, he was glad that he’d been able to talk to Gilbert about it, and it was a relief to know that the older boy would stand up for him.

“Are you finished?” he asked, eyeing the older boy’s nearly empty plate.

“Mm…” Gilbert looked down at the few remaining bites of food then patted his flat stomach. “ _Ja,_ couldn’t eat anozher bite.”

“Should we go back to campus, then?”

The albino smiled at him, an unusually soft, content smile that lacked the essence his almost constant cocky grin. “If you’re ready.”

“I am.”

Nodding, he called the waitress over and asked for the bill. Matthew dipped his finger into the maple syrup that was left on his plate then licked it off; he looked up in time to see Gilbert watching him.

“What?” Self-conscious now, the blond slipped his hands into his hoody pocket, hunching his shoulders and sinking lower into his side of the booth.

Gilbert didn’t respond right away. “ _Du bist liebenswert._ ”

Those disconcerting eyes were locked on Matt, making him feel like he was being judged by the older boy. It didn’t help that Gil had, whether he knew it or not, slipped into German. Matt had no idea what he’d just said, but he liked the way it sounded when his friend spoke German. That, combined with Gilbert’s stare, was dangerously close to making him blush.

“Gilbert, what are you staring at?” he asked softly, meeting the older boy’s gaze. Again, the albino didn’t respond right away. He continued to stare for a few moments before he blinked and shook his head.

“Vhat?”

A slight blush crept up Matt’s neck but he didn’t look away like he wanted to. “You were staring at me.”

Another blink, as if Gilbert was thinking back to see if he really had been staring, then he chuckled. “ _Ja,_ sorry. I vas spacing off.”

“What did you say?”

“Say?”

“You said something in German. Due beast leebenswer or something like that,” Matt informed the older boy, trying his best to pronounce the words correctly though he knew he’d messed up at least a little bit.

“Oh, uh, zhat vas nozhing. Talking to myself.”

Matthew wasn’t sure if he believed that, but he didn’t push it. If Gilbert didn’t want to tell him what _du bist liebenswert_ meant, then he didn’t have to. But that didn’t mean that Matt couldn’t try to look it up online before he went to sleep later.

“Here you go!” The waitress had reappeared to give Gilbert his receipt, looking as happy as always.

“Thank you,” Matt said with a smile, and she nodded eagerly.

“You’re welcome! Gosh, you two are a really cute couple. Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t blurt things out like that.” She looked embarrassed, but her light blush was nothing compared to the reactions of the two boys. Both of them had frozen at the word “couple.” Gilbert was halfway through the process of putting his credit card and receipt into his wallet, his movements stopped and held as his eyes flicked to look at Matthew’s face. The blond, already low in his seat, had sunk even farther down and his arms were wrapped around his midsection as if he’d instinctively gone to hug something that wasn’t there.

The silence stretched out for several uncomfortable moments.

“Ve’re not a couple.”

“We’re just friends.”

They spoke at the same time, Gilbert’s voice almost drowning out the quiet sound of Matthew.

“Oh.” The waitress looked back and forth between her customers worriedly. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I just assumed—you seem really close.”

“It’s okay,” Matthew tried to assure her, though he didn’t sound particularly confident that it _was_ okay.

“Well, have a good night.” Still looking upset over her mistake, the waitress walked away. Matthew and Gilbert looked at each other.

“Ve should go.”

“Yeah.”

Moving quickly but trying not to look like they were running for it, the two college students got up and left the restaurant. They didn’t speak again until they were almost a block away, and then Gilbert let out a nervous chuckle.

“Vell, zhat’s two people zhat zhought ve’re dating today.”

“Yeah,” Matthew forced his own nervous laugh. “Crazy, right?”

“ _Ja,_ completely crazy.”

Matthew nodded his agreement. Well, that settled it. Definitely not a date, not if Gilbert considered the mere idea of them dating to be “completely crazy.”

_I already knew that. God, why do I keep rehashing this? I’m just going to drive myself crazy if I don’t make up my mind. I know we aren’t going to date and that’s that. Stop thinking about it,_ the blond commanded himself, eyes glued to the sidewalk beneath his shoes. Why couldn’t he just accept the facts?

The sensation of something vibrating in his pocket caught Matthew’s attention; out of habit, he reached for his phone then stopped himself. It was an extra long buzz, which meant it was a reminder that he’d received a text fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t checked it. He knew it had been a lot longer than fifteen minutes—his phone had buzzed insistently every fifteen minutes for the last couple of hours—and he’d been ignoring the text on purpose. The person who had texted him didn’t deserve to be ignored, but Matthew didn’t want to text him back while he was still with Gilbert.

“ _Verdammt…_ ”

Well, he understood that well enough, and he couldn’t help but look at Gilbert to see why the older student had cursed. Following the albino’s gaze, he spotted a rather large group of people coming towards them down the sidewalk. They didn’t appear to have noticed Matthew and Gilbert yet, but it was only a matter of time. Only a moment later, Matthew recognized one of the voices.

“Oh, Alfred and his friends.” Which included the person who had been texting Matt and consequently who’s texts Matt had been ignoring.

“Hey, Mattie! I was wondering where you ran off to!”

Fixing a smile in place, Matthew waved to his half-brother as the older students drew closer. “Hello, Alfred.”

With his usual grin, Alfred all but strutted up to where Matthew and Gilbert had stopped, then slung his arm around his little brother’s shoulders. “What’s up, man? Why haven’t you been answering our texts?”

“Our?” Gilbert repeated.

Red eyes turned to him and Matthew lowered his head, ashamed of himself for some reason. “I didn’t want to be busy on my phone while I was hanging out with you…”

“You can check your phone, Matzhew. I von’t be offended by zhat.”

The blond shrugged and Alfred squeezed his shoulders in a companionable way.

“Yeah, man, no need to ignore your big bro. So, what’ve you two been up to?”

Matt glanced at Gilbert, not sure what he should say. “We went for a walk.”

“ _Und_ grabbed some dinner,” the albino added, earning a few raised eyebrows from the other students who were there.

“You bought dinner?” Antonio asked, a knowing smile dancing around the corners of his mouth.

“ _Ja,_ vhat of it?”

“Isn’t that… _lo que los novios hacen?_ ”

Instantly, Gilbert’s expression morphed into a glare. From somewhere in the group standing around Antonio, an elegant laugh sounded and Francis stepped forward to stand beside the Spaniard. He was smiling, blue eyes trained on Matthew.

“’E ‘as a point, Gilbert,” the Frenchman pointed out without looking at the albino he was speaking to.

“Zhe bozh of you better shut it before I kick your asses,” the white-haired student growled, his hands fisting at his sides.

“Gilbert,” Matthew murmured, touching his friend’s arm so that Gilbert looked at him, “please, don’t start a fight.” Instantly, he started to relax and nodded his acceptance of the blond’s request.

“Oh, ‘ow precious,” Francis commented, making the other students laugh. “’E ‘as you whipped, does ‘e not, Prussian?”

Gilbert’s head whipped around as he practically snarled. “Shut up!”

“Whoa, dudes,” Alfred interrupted, releasing Matthew and stepping forward to put himself between Gilbert and Francis, “let’s all relax. No street fights, okay?”

As discreetly as he could, Matthew sidled closer to Gilbert and grabbed onto the Prussian boy’s shirt, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Come on, Gil.”

Francis and Gilbert continued to stare each other down for a moment before Gilbert smirked and turned to Matthew. “ _Ja, mein kleiner Vogel._ He’s not vorzh it, anyvay.”

Still worried that a fight was about to break out, Alfred glanced between the two groups then relaxed, his usual grin falling into place. “Cool. Let’s go, guys.” He turned and began walking away; everyone but Francis followed him. Stepping forward, the blond offered a charming smile to Matthew and took the younger boy’s hand into his own.

“ _Il était merveilleux de vous voir, Mathieu._ ” The words rolled off his tongue as if they were packaged in silk and Matthew felt his face heating up. “I ‘ope to see you again _very_ soon.” Then he lifted the Canadian’s hand and kissed the back of it, his lips softer than Matt would ever have expected, though he couldn’t be surprised, either. His face was fire red as Francis let go of his hand, smiled again, then turned and walked after the others.

Stunned and speechless, Matthew watched the Frenchman’s retreating back with wide eyes, still flushed and completely at a loss for what to do or say. He hadn’t expected that. Never in a million years would he have expected for someone, for _anyone_ , to kiss his hand and talk to him in such a blatantly flirtatious tone. Yes, Gilbert was flirty at times, but never in the way that Francis had just been. How was he supposed to react to that?

Opening his mouth to ask for Gilbert’s advice, the blond turned and was surprised to see a murderous expression on his friend’s face as the albino looked back at him. “Gil? What’s wrong?”

“Vhat zhe hell vas zhat all about?”

He sounded angry. Why did he sound so angry?

“I…I don’t know. Gilbert, why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, still gripping the Prussian’s shirt. “What’s the matter?”

“Vhat is zhe matter? _Vhat is zhe matter?_ ” Gilbert repeated, his voice growing louder each time so that Matthew took a startled step back. “Zhat!” he all but yelled, pointing down the street to where Francis was still visible at the back of Alfred’s group. “ _Zhat_ is vhat is zhe matter! Vhy zhe _hell_ did he talk to you like zhat? Vhat did he say? _Vhy did he kiss you?_ ”

The older boy was so angry now that it was frightening Matthew and he quickly let go of Gilbert’s shirt, holding his arms close to his body for protection. “H-he just said that it was good to see me! I don’t know why he said it like that or why he kissed my hand!” he explained as quickly as he could, hoping to calm Gilbert before the older boy started to yell.

It didn’t appear to work, because Gilbert grabbed onto his hair with both hands and spun around, stalking off down the sidewalk as he muttered to himself in German. Matthew wasn’t sure if he was meant to follow or not, but he only hesitated for a moment before hurrying to catch up with the older boy.

“Gilbert, please, I really don’t know why Francis did that.”

“ _Dass bastard…er muss wissen…und ich kann ihn nicht stoppen…_ ”

Now was not the time for this! His frustration overpowering his worry that he’d somehow done something wrong, Matthew grabbed onto Gilbert’s arm and forced the albino to face him.

“Gilbert!”

Red eyes stared at him from beneath a furrowed brow. Gilbert was chewing on his lip in a worried fashion, his shoulders hunched and his whole body tense.

Letting his expression soften, Matthew smiled a little. “Please, in English, tell me why you’re so upset.”

They stared at each other in silence for several minutes as cars rushed by.

“I…do not trust him.”

Oh, progress. Good.

“Why not?” Matthew asked gently, relaxing his grip on Gil’s arm. He was still a little shaken by being yelled at, especially by his best friend, but he was willing to shove that aside and deal with it later in order to take care of the real problem.

“Because he is a playboy and a pervert and a flirt. He makes you feel important until he gets vhat he vants, zhen he drops you.” The words were soft, barely audible, but Matthew heard them.

“You sound like you know from personal experience.”

The smallest of smiles made an appearance on Gil’s face. “ _Nein,_ not really, but I’ve seen it happen and don’t vant it to happen to you.”

“All right, so I’ll be careful. I promise.” He smiled back at the albino, hoping that his promise would fix things so that Gilbert wouldn’t be angry anymore and they could go back to campus and have fun like they were supposed to.

“Good.” There was relief in Gilbert’s tone and his smile became more genuine as he slung an arm around Matt’s shoulders and began leading him back towards campus. “I’m sorry for yelling. He just really pisses me off.”

Matthew nudged the older boy companionably. “It’s all right. I know you weren’t mad at me.” At least, he knew it now that Gilbert had explained why he’d been so upset. During the yelling bit, he hadn’t been sure whose fault it was, but it was nice of Gilbert to apologize.

“I don’t know vhy I’m vorried about it. You’re clearly out of his league,” the albino commented, looking at the blond out of the corner of his eye as he smirked. “Zhat priss doesn’t have a chance vizh you, anyvay.”

A light blush colored Matt’s cheeks. “But I thought I was cute, not sexy.”

“Vell,” Gilbert gestured vaguely, “zhat might be true, but zhat doesn’t mean you aren’t vorzh dating. Obviously, zhe priss has taken an interest in you, and I can’t blame him.”

“Really.” It was all he could think to say. Gilbert couldn’t blame Francis for having an interest in dating him? But…what? Since when did Gilbert consider Matthew to be dateable! He’d said so himself that Matt was only cute!

_But…no! This is too confusing…and Alfred said something about this, too. That not being sexy doesn’t mean he doesn’t like me. But he doesn’t! He said it himself earlier today! Ugh. Get your head straight, Mattie. Don’t let this confuse you. You’re Gilbert’s best friend and it’s going to stay that way._

He really needed to keep from letting his thoughts and imagination run away with him. It was difficult, though, as he walked back towards campus with Gilbert’s arm around his shoulders, not to feel like this whole thing had been some sort of accidental date. Everything that had happened that day seemed like one long chain of events that led them to this moment, to Gilbert admitting that he didn’t consider Matt unavailable to date. It wasn’t quite the same as saying that he personally wanted to date the Canadian, but it was pretty close.

“Gilbert…?”

“Yeah, _Vogel?_ ”

The blond opened his mouth then bit his lip, hesitating. “Would…would _you_ ever want…to date me?”

“Vhat?” Looking surprised and a little confused by the question, Gilbert turned his red-eyed gaze on the smaller male. “Vhy do you ask?”

Pretending he didn’t really care about what Gilbert’s answer was, Matthew shrugged. “I just wondered because you said you couldn’t blame Francis for wanting to date me. So, would you ever want to date me?”

A few moments passed as Gilbert thought about the question. “I don’t know. You’re cute, and I admit you’re good at cuddling during scary movies, but you’re my friend. Even if I did have a crush on you or vant to ask you out, I don’t zhink I vould do it. I vouldn’t vant to try to date you because it might ruin our friendship. Make sense?”

It was a disappointing answer, but nothing less than what he’d expected. “Yeah, makes sense.”

So that settled it. He wasn’t going to date Gilbert, and he was going to be careful about Francis because the Frenchman had a bad reputation. No problem. Still, he wondered why he hadn’t seen this sort of thing coming. How many stories had he heard about college? About the drama and the relationships that lasted for three days? College was supposed to be like high school but on jacked up hormones plus way more stress.

He hoped that wasn’t how his college experience was going to be. High school had been terrible and so far he was enjoying college, even though he was in a different country and only had one close friend.

Glancing up at Gilbert, Matthew felt himself smile and relaxed in the older boy’s half embrace. His college experience was definitely going to be better than his high school one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRANSLATIONS  
> Du bist liebenswert German: You are adorable.  
> Verdammt German: Damn it  
> Isn’t that…lo que los novios hacen? Spanish: Isn’t that…what boyfriends do?  
> Ja, mein kleiner Vogel. German: Yes, my little Bird.  
> Il était merveilleux de vous voir, Mathieu. French: It was marvelous to see you, Matthew.  
> Dass bastard… German: That bastard…  
> er muss wissen… he must know….   
> und ich kann ihn nicht stoppen… and I cannot stop it…


	11. Chapter 11

_Zzzzz….zzzzz…zzzzz…._

Startled awake by the buzzing sensation against his hip, Matt sat up and blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear his sleep-blurred vision. Confusion set in—had he fallen asleep at his desk?—then realization that he’d been up late studying for midterms and had, in fact, dozed off. After waking further, he recognized the fact that he’d woken up because his phone went off in his pocket.

“Mm…” The blond stretched, leaning back against his chair with his arms above his head; his spine popped twice and he smiled a little because he’d always loved the way that felt.

Now feeling awake enough to at least partially function, he retrieved his phone and clicked the screen on to see that he had a new message from Francis. What on earth could Francis want at eleven pm?

_> > Did I get you in trouble with the Prussian? _

_< < What are you talking about? _

_> > I know I made him angry by kissing your hand. _

Oh, that. The memory made Matt blush lightly and he shook his head, blond hair brushing against his face.

_< < No, he was annoyed, mostly. _

That was a complete lie and Matt knew it, but he didn’t like to think that Gilbert’s anger had somehow been directed at him, that he’d “been in trouble” because of what Francis had done.

_> > Isn’t he always? _

He giggled—he couldn’t help it. Francis was pretty close to the truth with that comment, although Matthew knew that Gilbert would take offense at the accusation and deny it. 

“What’s so funny?”

Turning, Matthew smiled at Alfred, whom he’d almost forgotten was also in the room and not out partying for once. At least the American could be responsible when it came to midterms. “Nothing. Just a funny text.”

“From who?”

“Francis.”

A knowing smile appeared on the blue-eyed blond’s face and Matthew felt his cheeks heat up.

“What’s the smile for?”

“Nothing~”

Suspicion arose at the sing-song tone that Alfred had used, but he didn’t ask what that was supposed to mean. He had a feeling that his older half-brother would tease him about whatever it was without giving him a real answer, so he turned his attention back to his phone.

_< < Not always. Why did you think I was in trouble? He wasn’t annoyed at me. _

_> > He doesn’t care whose fault it is, Matthieu. When Gilbert’s upset, he takes it out on the nearest person. You must have noticed this. _

No, no, he hadn’t noticed that. He’d only seen the albino truly upset one time, and that had been the night Francis kissed his hand. But he couldn’t go off that because Gilbert hadn’t directed his anger at Matt, not really. So maybe he’d yelled and it had been a little frightening, but that didn’t mean Gilbert had been taking his anger out on Matthew.

_> > Sort of. I haven’t seen him angry very many times. _

_< < Good. I don’t want you to get hurt, mon cher. Please be careful around him. _

Wait, what? Be careful around Gilbert? But…he was the first real friend Matt had had in years…there was no reason to be careful around him. He wasn’t violent or mean. He barely ever got worked up about things, choosing instead to shrug them off in a manner that Matthew envied. Why on earth did Francis want him to be careful?

_> > Be careful of what? _

As confused as he was, the blond Canadian couldn’t ignore the sleepiness that was creeping up on him again. It made his eyelids droop slightly and he yawned, covering his mouth with one pale hand. Even though he’d taken a nap at his desk for who knew how long, he was tired enough to fall asleep sitting there all over again.

_< < His temper. _

_> > Gilbert’s never gotten mad at me. _

Yawning again, he left his phone on his desk to go about getting ready for bed, seeing as it was almost midnight at this point. The sound of it buzzing caught his attention as he was brushing his teeth and he glanced at it but didn’t move from where he stood at the sink. Part of him didn’t even want to see what this newest text said. The thought that Gilbert had a temper and might turn against him in a fit of anger was upsetting. Once he was done with his teeth and had changed into his pajamas, though, he picked up the device and clicked the message open.

_> > I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before he does, mon cher. If you don’t believe me, then ask him about his father sometime. _

Gilbert’s father…they hadn’t talked about their families very much, even after weeks of being friends. Matt did occasionally mention his mother, and of course the two friends had both mentioned their brothers regularly, but now that he actually thought about it, he couldn’t remember Gilbert ever saying anything about his parents.

_Is he an orphan? No, he went home to visit them for a weekend. But he never talks about them, like they’re a secret._

He didn’t want to believe that Gilbert was keeping secrets from him. They were best friends—they shouldn’t have to hide things from each other. Gilbert probably just wasn’t ready to talk about them, or it made him uncomfortable or something like that. There was no reason to worry about it.

_< < I trust Gilbert._

Satisfied with his response to Francis, Matthew climbed up into his loft and settled under the covers, phone in hand. He appreciated the older boy’s concern, but he really didn’t think it was necessary. Gilbert was his best friend and Matt trusted him more than almost anyone—only his mother had more of his trust, and that would always be the case.

One last text buzzed on his phone, a message from Francis.

_> > So did I. _

Matthew almost sat up in bed. What on earth was that supposed to mean?

“Hey…Al?”

“Yeah?” The bespectacled blond looked up at his brother curiously, arm slung over the back of his chair.

“What do you think of Antonio and Francis? I know they’re your friends, but…why?”

Considering the question, Alfred turned more fully and propped his chin in his hand. “Why are they my friends? Um…well, Antonio’s kind of a nut. Real laid-back and always ready to either sleep or party. I don’t think he takes anything seriously, except this Italian kid he really likes. Which I don’t get cause that kid practically hates Toni’s guts.”

Well, that didn’t give any sort of explanation as to why Gilbert seemed to hold a grudge against the Spaniard. “What about Francis? Gilbert told me to be careful around him but he told me to be careful around Gil and I don’t know why they don’t like each other.”

“Isn’t that something you should ask Gilbert?” the American asked, raising an eyebrow to make his point.

Probably. He wanted to. His curiosity was dying to know what had happened between his friend and Francis, but he didn’t have the courage to ask. Besides, he didn’t want to pry into Gilberts’ personal business. “Maybe, but I’m asking you because you’re Francis’ friend.”

Alfred’s first response was to shrug. “Francis is a fun guy to hang out with. He likes to party and I’d be lying if I said I don’t think he’s a sexy bastard. That guy knows how to pick up…anyone he wants.”

Anyone he wanted? Did that mean…Matt was just someone the Frenchman thought was cute and he’d fallen for the older boy’s charms just like everyone else? 

“Oh…”

“Hey, don’t sound so put out, dude. Francis likes you and he doesn’t like just anyone. He’s really picky about the people he flirts with. You don’t even go to parties and he likes you.”

Now he sat up, staring down at his brother in surprise. “Francis…likes me?”

The older blond rolled his eyes. “Yeah, man. Why else would he flirt with you and kiss your hand like he did the other night?”

A blush colored Matt’s cheeks. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. We all did. It’s not like we walked away without knowing what Francis was doing.”

“And…as my big brother…you’re okay with it?”

“Well, yeah. He’s my friend—if he messes with you, I’ll beat him up. If I wasn’t okay with him liking you, I would have told him so back when he first figured out that you speak French. Which is cool, by the way,” he added with a small amount of envy in his voice. “I only speak English out of, like, everyone, so sometimes I feel kinda lame.”

“What about that British guy? He only speaks English.”

“Arthur doesn’t count. He’s British so he has a sexy accent. I’m just…American.”

Matthew couldn’t help the small smile that his brother’s worry caused. “Alfred, you know that a lot of people outside of America think that Americans are the ones with the accent, right?”

Alfred’s expression went blank as Matt’s words sank in, then he grinned and laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. Cool.”

Silence fell over the dorm as Alfred reveled in this new way of thinking and Matthew tried to wrap his mind around the idea that Francis actually _liked_ him. Francis, the elegant, handsome Frenchman who could, according to Alfred, have anyone he wanted.

“Alfred?”

“Hm?”

“Did…Did Francis say anything about me?”

“That’s a hard question to answer, bro.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, yeah.” He was lounging in his chair now, leaning back with his feet on his desk so the front two legs of his chair were held off the floor. “He’s talked about you, but the real question is when _doesn’t_ that guy talk about you. I swear, the last week it’s been non-stop chatter—half of which is in French so none of us know what he’s saying—about how cute you are and all this mushy crap. I mean, he’s French so I guess he’s supposed to be all romantic and stuff but it’s kind of weird hearing him talk about how much he likes you. As your brother and all.”

“Oh.” Slowly, the Canadian lay down again and stared at the ceiling without really seeing it. Francis talked about him and liked him and for some reason didn’t trust Gilbert. But Matt liked Gilbert and trusted him, yet he liked the attention that Francis gave him. So what would happen if he started to like Francis, too?

“Is it possible to like more than one person at a time?”

“Totally. I do it all the time.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Like, I think Arthur’s hot and his accent is adorable, sexy when he’s angry. I’d go out with him, but I know he’d say no if I asked. I’ve had a crush on him for ages.”

“I hadn’t noticed you liked him.”

“Dude, you think he’d be friends with me if he knew I want to kiss him half the time he talks?” Sighing, Alfred closed his books and got up—the light clicked off and Matt rolled onto his side in time to see his half-brother settling onto his own bed. “He has no idea I like him and neither do the others. You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”

Pride at the fact that Alfred trusted him this much took root in Matt’s chest and he smiled. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know you won’t, Mattie. So, there’s Arthur, but I like someone else, too.”

“Do I know them?”

“Yep. He’s one of my other friends.”

Well, that narrowed it down, but Matthew couldn’t remember ever noticing that Alfred was attracted to any of his friends, though his brother had just made it clear that he wasn’t open about how he felt. “Who is it?”

“Ivan.”

“Ivan? But…he’s completely different from Arthur.”

“Yeah, I know. I dunno, I like Arthur a lot and all but he’s kinda cranky sometimes and he can be mean when he’s tired or stressed. Ivan is _always_ smiling, like he knows something that the rest of us don’t have a clue about. I like that about him. And he’s just…is it wrong that I like how muscular that guy is? Seriously, he could probably bench press me like I weigh less than a feather and that’s fucking hot. And that accent? Well, I won’t tell you what I think about his accent.” His voice had dropped to a lower octave and Matt decided that he had pretty good idea about what Alfred thought about the Russian’s accent.

“That makes sense, I guess.”

“Besides, you like Gilbert, and since you’re asking me this, I’m gonna go ahead and say that you like Francis, too, and they’re nothing alike. Francis is the type of guy that wears matching shoes and scarves. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gilbert wear any shoes other than those black boots. Francis is flirtatious and elegant and a little bit feminine sometimes, and so far Gilbert seems like a total tough-guy-not-gonna-take-your-shit. They’re almost as different as Arthur and Ivan are.”

“Yeah. But what do I do?”

“What do you wanna do, Mattie?”

The Canadian sighed and draped his forearm over his eyes. “I have no idea.”

“So, Step One, figure out what you want. If you’re so convinced that Gilbert doesn’t like you back, then maybe you should try things with Francis.”

It was good advice, but Matt wasn’t sure if he should encourage Francis. The older boy was nice and sure Matthew admired him, but he wasn’t sure if he actually like-liked him. He didn’t know him that well, after all. “I don’t know if I like Francis like that. And I liked Gilbert first, anyway.”

“Then find out for sure how he feels about you. It’s up to you, bro. I can’t tell you what to do.”

That was true enough. “Yeah. Thanks for talking to me about it, Al. It means a lot to me.”

“Hey, what else are big brothers for?”

Matthew smiled even though the other boy couldn’t see it. “Beating up the jerks who mess with their little brothers.”

“Exactly.” Grinning, Alfred yawned and stretched out on his bed. “All right, I’m about to pass out. We can talk more tomorrow if you want, but I really gotta go to sleep.”

“Okay, night, Alfred.”

“Night, Mattie.”

X

This was starting to freak him out a little. What was he staring at? Did he have something in his teeth?

Self-conscious, Gilbert ran his tongue over his teeth to check—there was nothing there.

_He’s still staring._

It was disconcerting to be subjected to the sort of concentrated attention that Matthew had been putting him under for the last few days. Gilbert caught him often enough, would look into the younger boy’s eyes for sometimes up to thirty seconds. Then the blond would blink and look away as if he’d never stared at all.

Gilbert had been confused the first few times. Then it had worried him, made him think he’d done something. Now it was starting to get on his nerves; he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being judged.

“Vhat?” he finally burst out in frustration, white eyebrows drawn together as he frowned. “You’ve been staring at me for days! Is somezhing wrong? Did I upset you or somezhing?”

“No, of course not.” Matthew had turned back to his text book, once again acting as though he hadn’t spent the last few minutes staring at the albino beside him; the older boy didn’t miss that Matt discreetly checked his phone, another thing he’d been doing more often than normal lately.

“Zhen vhy do you keep staring at me?” Gilbert asked, putting down his own book. “I know I’m good-looking, but you’re starting to vorry me.”

A smile small appeared on the blond’s face but he just shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“ _Lügner._ ”

“What?”

“I called you a liar.” He waited for the blond to look at him in surprise, crossing his arms over his chest. “Zhere’s somezhing you’re not telling me, Mattie. I can tell. You keep checking your phone. Vhen you’re not doing zhat, you stare at me. Vhat’s going on? Did somezhing happen?” The question held all the genuine concern that he could manage to put into it. If Matt was hiding things from him, then he wanted the younger boy to know that he didn’t have to keep secrets. “I’m your friend, Matt. If somezhing’s wrong, zhen I vant to be able to help you, okay?”

The smile reappeared and Matt tucked his hands into the pocket of his hoody. “I’m fine! Just stressed because of midterms. I want to do well, is all.”

Gilbert wasn’t sure if he should believe that or not. It didn’t explain the Canadian’s odd behavior, not by a long shot, and he was really starting to worry about it.

“You promise?”

Matthew hesitated for less than a second. “I promise.”

_He’s lying to me._

The realization hurt. Had he done something to lose Matthew’s trust? _Nein,_ he didn’t think so, at least. Things had seemed perfectly fine, even after he’d gotten so angry about Francis. But Matthew hadn’t started acting strange until a few days after that—it had been almost a week since the Frenchman had so easily managed to infuriate him. He wasn’t proud of that. He’d let the blond get to him and then he’d almost taken it out on Matthew, which he felt a certain amount of guilt for.

_But zhat can’t be it. Ve vere fine after zhat. So vhat happened in zhe last few days to make him act so veird?_

Shit, he couldn’t think of anything, and he really couldn’t afford to spend a lot of time thinking about it, not if he wanted to pass his midterms with decent grades. And now that Matt had promised that he was fine, it would make him think that Gilbert didn’t trust him if the albino kept trying to ask why the blond was acting so strangely lately. Which meant he was stuck, stuck with a Matthew that stared at him and checked his phone every two minutes, a Matthew who was still friendly but distant in a way he’d never been before. A Matthew that wasn’t the Matthew he’d fallen in lo—

_Nein! Not zhat vord, idiot. Ve don’t use zhat vord, remember? Zhat vord is for sentimental saps like Ludvig, not zhe Awesome Me. Besides, I don’t…love…Matzhew, anyvay._

If he almost used _that_ word to describe his feelings for the Canadian, then he was in deeper trouble than he’d realized. The only person he’d ever openly used that word for was his mother, and she was his _mother_. It went without saying that he loved her. Not even Ludwig had been blessed with that word for the last several years. Gilbert didn’t use that word lightly.

But he’d almost used it for Matthew.

_Shit._


	12. Chapter 12

His concentration was broken by Alfred and his friends invading the dorm. Halfway through a chapter’s worth of notes, Matthew sat back in his chair and sighed, rubbing his face.

“Hey, Mattie! Whatcha up to?” Alfred asked, clapping the younger blond on the shoulder and grinning.

“Studying for my last exam tomorrow.”

“Boring!” the taller boy sang, holding the “o” and “i” sounds longer than was necessary. “You’ll burn yourself out if you don’t take a break!”

“Alfred, I—”

“ _Si’l vous plaît, Mathieu,_ ” a second voice interrupted, and Matt looked up to find Francis smiling that charming smile at him, “come and eat wizh us, _oui?_ ”

Matthew hesitated, unsure. He really needed to study this for tomorrow, but he was starting to feel ready for a break. Besides, he hadn’t eaten dinner yet and the offer of food was enticing. But he shouldn’t; he’d already turned an offer from Gilbert down, partially because he hadn’t been feeling the best earlier that day and partially because the albino could be distracting. To be fair, he should turn down this offer, too.

But his stomach was growling and Alfred was making puppy eyes at him, not to mention Francis’ hopeful smile and the silently waiting students standing behind his brothers. They were all looking at him, waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do.

_Peer pressure. That’s what this is._

He’d never experienced genuine peer pressure before, and he was surprised to encounter it now, especially from his brother.

“U-um…sure,” he conceded quietly, and earned grins from the others.

“Great!” Grabbing his arm, Alfred pulled him to his feet and began leading him towards the door. “Pizza time!”

They were barely willing to wait long enough for Matthew to put on his shoes and hoody. Then he was put at the front of the group to walk next to Alfred as Francis walked on his other side and just behind him. The others followed, laughing and joking as usual. It was strange; he wasn’t used to being included in such a large, rowdy group.

“So,” Alfred put an arm around Matthew’s shoulders, “how’re things going with Gilbert?”

Matt’s face instantly turned a dark shade of red. What was Alfred doing?!

“Going?” he repeated softly, and Al shot him a grin.

“You know what I mean.”

Embarrassed that his half-brother had brought this up in front of so many people, Matthew lowered his gaze to the sidewalk beneath his sneakers.

“Nowhere yet. I’m still thinking about it.”

“Ah, well, you’ll figure it out,” the older of the two brothers responded confidently.

“Are you ‘aving trouble wizh Gilbert?” Francis asked in a politely curious tone.

“Not exactly,” Matthew hedged. This wasn’t something he really wanted to talk about, not in front of all these people, and certainly not with Francis. The Frenchman was part of the problem, after all, and Matt had a few things he wanted to figure out before he started opening up about his feelings towards Gilbert. Luckily, Francis didn’t push the subject and merely gave a shrug of his shoulders as if to say that it wasn’t his business, anyway. He managed to avoid being dragged into the group’s conversation all the way to the pizza parlor they’d chosen for dinner, and slid into the booth with a sigh of relief. Until he realized that Alfred was on his left while Francis was on his right.

Perfect.

“What are you ‘ungry for?” the elegant blond asked, charming smile fixed in place as he picked up a menu and scanned the items.

“I don’t know,” Matt responded quietly. Part of him wanted to say something sarcastic about how he wanted pizza because they were in a pizza parlor, but he didn’t. That wasn’t like him. That was something Gilbert would say.

_Is he rubbing off on me this much?_

It was strange to think the albino was actually effecting the way he thought and acted. Or maybe being around Gilbert was just making him a little more self-confident. Maybe. That was just something he was going to have to think about, on top of everything else.

They ended up ordering two pizzas, one cheese and one meat-lover’s.

“So, _Matthieu,_ ” Francis began, slipping an arm around the younger blond’s shoulders so smoothly that Matt barely noticed, “what are you studying ‘ere in America?”

Blushing about how very close Francis suddenly seemed to be, Matthew kept his eyes locked on the red tabletop so that he wouldn’t look at the older boy and put himself face-to-face with him. “Zoology.”

“Really? What do you want to do wizh such a degree?” The Frenchmen’s tone was one of the utmost interest yet was still polite, as always. He really did have perfect manners.

“I want to work on a nature preserve or national park,” Matt responded softly, embarrassed because everyone else was involved in a group discussion while Francis was completely focused on him. It was strange; he wasn’t used to being given so much attention. Not even Gilbert sat this close to him, unless they were watching a scary movie, and then he only did it because Matthew needed to be able to cling to him and hide his face during the really scary parts. And because they cuddled during the parts that weren’t scary, which was always nice.

_I wish Gilbert was here._

The albino would certainly make it easier to relax, or at least he’d pick a fight with Francis and then the Frenchman would look at something other than Matthew. He knew, though, that the elegant blond was this focused on him for a reason. After Alfred explaining that Francis actually _liked_ him, Matt couldn’t help but notice the way those blue eyes looked at him every time the older students came to the dorm, how Francis smiled at him in a way that was a little bit different than how he smiled at everyone else. It made him feel special, but…all the attention was a little frightening.

“A national park, hm? I take eet zhat you love animals,” Francis commented, and Matt nodded because that was true. “I’m sure you’ll be a _fantastique_ park ranger, _mon beau Matthieu._ And zhose uniforms are… _très attractifs, non?_ ” He smirked a little then, when Matthew looked at him in slight surprise, and the Canadian’s face flushed a dark red because his nose was practically touching Francis’. As embarrassed and shy as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Those blue eyes were mesmerizing, holding him there as the smirk on Francis’ lips softened into a smile that made Matt’s heart flutter. The arm around his shoulders moved to hold his waist. Slowly, the older boy began to move closer and Matt stiffened.

_What is he doing?! He’s going to kiss me! In front of Alfred and everyone!_

Panic gripped him—his first kiss in front of all these people!—yet he still couldn’t bring himself to move. He was too nervous about what was about to happen to him and all he could think was that he wasn’t ready for this and it wasn’t the right place and—

“Whoa, Francis!” Alfred’s voice suddenly sounded over the rest of the noise of the pizza parlor and Arthur, Ivan, Antonio and Yao fell silent. All eyes landed on Francis, examining the fact that he was holding Matt’s waist, leaning so close their chests were pressed together, his mouth less than an inch from the younger boy’s. Matthew’s face couldn’t have gotten redder.

Blue eyes amused, Francis chuckled quietly and slowly released the Canadian, sitting up straight in his own portion of the booth as Matthew sidled away closer to Alfred; the American slung an arm around his shoulders in a protective fashion, staring at Francis as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just interrupted.

“Dude, were you trying to seduce my little brother in a pizza parlor? While we’re all sitting here?”

Francis laughed at that, the sound soft and elegant and charming, just like everything else he did. “ _Mes excuses,_ ” he said with a slight bow of the head. “I could not ‘elp myself. ‘e ees too cute.”

“ _Si,_ he is, but control yourself, _amigo,_ ” Antonio was the first to respond, green eyes wide though he didn’t look particularly surprised. It was more like he was saying “you know better” with his eyes, and Francis nodded his acceptance of the command.

“ _Oui, oui._ I will contain myself. Please, let us move on.”

And, just like that, conversation resumed as if nothing had happened. But Matthew had yet even to blink, he was so spooked by what Francis had been about to do. His first kiss had almost been in a pizza parlor, right in front of the half-brother he’d only known he had for about six months now.

“Hey.” The arm around his shoulders tightened for a moment and Matthew finally broke his gaze away from the tabletop in order to look at Alfred. His brother was watching him with concern, purposefully not participating in his friends’ conversation. “You okay?” he asked quietly, brow furrowed slightly above deep blue eyes.

“Yes…I’m fine…”

“You sure?”

Matthew nodded. “Thank you.”

A small smile replaced Alfred’s concern. “No probs, bro. Couldn’t let him take advantage of you like that. You looked terrified.”

He nodded again, lowering his gaze. “That would have been my first kiss,” the younger blond admitted softly, embarrassed by it but wanting Alfred to know how he’d felt. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Grinning now, Alfred hugged his brother and patted his shoulder. “Say ‘no.’ Tell him to stop. He’ll listen. Francis might be a flirt and sometimes he’s a little perverted, but he’s not a rapist and he won’t force anything on anyone. Kay?”

“Kay.” Matt smiled a little and sat up as Alfred took his arm back. They were just in time—a waitress had just reached their table and set down the first pan of pizza. Like a pack of hungry wolves, the teens fell on the food as Matthew waited quietly so he could take a slice without losing his hand. Again, he found himself wishing Gilbert was there. The albino would have threatened to beat Francis up for getting that close to Matt, and he’d have made sure he got a slice of pizza, too. He was always doing things for him that Matthew couldn’t manage to bring himself to do.

_Gilbert._

Would he have gotten so nervous and frightened if it had been Gilbert, not Francis, who had been about to kiss him? Maybe. Gilbert had pretended he was going to kiss Matt before, though he’d never gotten quite as close as Francis did. But Matthew had never been as nervous about Gilbert doing it. He _wanted_ Gilbert to kiss him, as much as he would never admit it. Although…maybe he _should._

“Here ya go, Mattie!”

Alfred had rescued a slice of the cheese pizza for him, and Matthew smiled as he accepted it.

“Thank you.”

The American was really trying to be the best big brother he could be and Matt was almost overwhelmed by his gratitude for Alfred. As much as he disliked the idea of having a half-brother, especially under the circumstances that he and Al were related, he was glad that, out of anyone, he was related to the energetic, blue-eyed blond sitting beside him. If it weren’t for Alfred, he wouldn’t have figured out how he felt until it was too late.

X

A chill autumn breeze ruffled his hair as Gilbert took a drag of his cigarette. It was his first one of the day, which was impressive because he’d usually had three or four by now. The sun was just starting to set, which meant the temperature was dropping, but he was warm in his jeans and jacket. Besides, smoking always made him feel a bit warmer, though that was probably just the nicotine hitting his brain.

His eyes drifted over the shadow-stained campus, watching students walk here and there. Only a couple of months ago, he’d have been bored to death by sitting off by himself, smoking. Now, though, he found himself watching the people that looked like couples. Holding hands, shoulders brushing and bumping together, or arms linked. Then there were the ones who weren’t dating but obviously liked each other, the ones who walked with their hands in their pockets and heads down but with their elbows touching more often than not. It was how he walked with Matt.

_Shit, didn’t zhink I was zhat obvious._

But, judging by what he could tell just from looking at his fellow students, he was. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now.

Cigarette burned down to the butt, Gilbert dropped it on the sidewalk and stepped on it just as he always did, twisting his ankle to make sure he put out any leftover ashes or cinders. He shrugged, straightening his jacket, and began walking back towards the doors of his dorm hall when a familiar laugh caught his attention. Stopping, he turned and looked across the courtyard. Sure enough, there was Alfred F. Jones, walking with, as always, Francis, Antonio, Ivan, Arthur and Yao.

Wait, who was that? There was an extra person in their group.

Red eyes widened then narrowed in confusion as the albino frowned. What was Matthew doing walking around with— _why did Francis have his arm around Matthew’s shoulders?_

Anger welled up inside him and he resisted the urge to shout an insult at Francis, or simply run across the courtyard and punch the blond priss right in the nose. He’d certainly have a harder time seducing people if his nose was crooked. And he wanted to grab Matt by the front of his hoody, drag him away from the others and demand to know just what exactly he thought he was doing.

He couldn’t do that, though. That would make him look like an even bigger jerk than he actually was, and he knew Alfred would turn into a protective big brother if he so much as looked at Matthew the wrong way. There had to be a better way to do this.

Huffing, Gilbert pulled his phone from his pocket. This would be interesting.

_< < I thought you were sick._

He watched him, watched the blond pause and take out his phone, read for a moment then begin texting. Only seconds later, his own phone buzzed.

_> > I’m feeling better than I was earlier. Do you want to study and watch a movie tonight?_

So he came in second to Francis. Even though he was supposed to be Matt’s best friend, and had asked to hang out earlier that day, he was denied in favor of spending time with Francis.

_< < Nein. Not with you._

A confused look appeared on Matthew’s face and Gilbert couldn’t help but sneer; the Canadian still had no idea that Gilbert could see him.

_> > Is something wrong?_

Wrong? Of course there was something wrong. His best friend had ditched him in order to hang out with the one person on this planet he hated as much as his father.

_< < Look around._

Gilbert turned as he sent the text so that he was facing directly at Matthew. He wished he hadn’t finished his cigarette already; a long drag would have helped him to calm down. As it was, he had to clench his hands into fists to try to keep them from shaking. The glow of Matt’s phone was visible as it lit up with the text, illuminating the Canadian’s face as he read the message. Then his head jerked up and snapped to the left then right. And then Matthew froze, blue-violet eyes meeting red as the two college students stared at each other. The others walked past him, not noticing that he’d stopped until he was several feet behind them.

That was when Gilbert started walking, long legs carrying him effortlessly across the courtyard until he was only a foot away from the younger boy. He glared, fully aware that he was being watched by Alfred’s entire group and that if he made a wrong move, they’d step in to protect the Canadian standing before him.

“G-Gilbert, I—”

“Shut up, Matzhew.”

Taken aback, Matthew blinked rapidly but closed his mouth, almost afraid to speak.

“Vere you alvays going to do zhis, Mattie?” the albino asked, his voice soft and tense, so much more frightening than a shout would have been. “Just be my friend until you managed to catch somevone else’s eye, like Francis, zhen ditch me like I’m nozhing?” Gilbert shook his head but didn’t break the eye contact he had with the younger boy. It hurt him to say these things, to voice what that negative little voice in the back of his head was saying.

_Used you. Just like zhey did. He’s just like zhem._

“N-no! Gilbert, that isn’t true!” Matthew protested, reaching out like he wanted to take hold of Gilbert’s hands but stopping halfway as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. “I would never do that to you!”

“Zhen vhy lie to me? So you could spend time vizh _him,_ ” his arm shot out and he pointed an accusatory finger at Francis, “vizhout me knowing? Vhy hide zhat from me? I already know he likes you. It’s obvious.”

Matthew bit his lip, glancing back and forth between Gilbert and Francis. “I didn’t lie to you,” he whispered, pulling his arms back and tucking them against his chest as if protecting himself. “I really wasn’t feeling well this morning. I only went with them because I was hungry and they were going for pizza, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to hang out with you.”

The older boy snorted in disbelief. He’d seen the way Francis looked at the Canadian, how Matt smiled and blushed and mumbled when the Frenchman flirted with him. If it was obvious that Francis liked Matthew, then it was easy to see that the attraction was mutual. Simply put, Matthew had chosen to accept Francis’ advances, and he lied rather than tell Gilbert.

“I don’t vant to hear it, Matzhew.”

Blue-violet eyes looked up at him, beginning to fill with tears behind glasses that Gilbert could see his reflection in.

_Shit, he’s crying. I can’t—argh, stop zhat! Don’t cry! I don’t vant to feel bad for you!_

Angry as well as irritated with himself, he turned then stopped. “I really liked you, you know,” he said quietly, and knew from the soft gasp that Matthew heard him. “I vould have dated you. But if you’re going to do zhis, if you’re going to lie to me and flirt vizh zhe likes of him,” they both knew he meant Francis, “zhen you’re not who I zhought you vere.”

“Gilbert…”

“ _Nein,_ Matzhew.” The albino took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “Ve’re done.” Without looking back, he walked away. He could hear Matthew calling after him, heard running footsteps that stopped abruptly as several more voices drowned out the Canadian’s soft sounds.

_Don’t look back._

It was the only thing he allowed himself to think, and he kept repeating it to himself all the way up to his dorm. The door slammed behind him and he stood just inside the dorm as two pairs of startled eyes stared at him.

“Gilbert, are you all right?” Ludwig asked, getting up and moving to stand in front of his older brother. Roughly, the albino shoved him out of the way and went to his desk. There was no warning before he growled and swept everything off the wooden surface, causing his things to scatter across the floor, some of which broke upon impact.

“Gilbert!” the blond German grabbed his arm but Gilbert shook him off, breathing heavily. “Gilbert, vhat’s wrong?”

“Everyzhing.” It was barely more than a breath.

“Vhat?”

“Everyzhing!” He whirled around, staring Ludwig straight in the eye. Over the blond’s shoulder, he could see Feliciano cowering on his brother’s bed, but he didn’t care that he’d frightened the brunet. He was too angry to care about anything. “Everyzhing is wrong!”

Taking hold of his brother’s shoulders, he shook him, shouting, his words running together until even he wasn’t sure what he was saying anymore. And Ludwig let him, didn’t do a thing until Feliciano started crying. Then, and only then, did he grip the white-haired boy’s wrists and force him to stop.

“Gilbert! Shut up!”

The force of his yell subdued the older boy until they were both silent, staring at each other as they panted. After a moment, Ludwig released his hold on his brother’s wrists and turned towards the closet.

“Get changed. Ve’re going.”

“Vhy?” Gilbert demanded, and icy blue eyes were turned on him, along with an expression that clearly said Ludwig wasn’t above stripping and dressing his brother himself, if he had to. They both knew he was strong enough to do it, though Gilbert wouldn’t allow it without a fight.

“Because I said so. Now put on some shorts and a t-shirt and your tennis shoes.”

Silent and still angry, Gilbert did as he was told while Ludwig did the same. They left Feliciano in the dorm—after Ludwig calmed him down—and Gilbert followed his taller brother across campus to a building he’d never been to before. The Recreational Center.

“Vhat zhe hell are ve doing here?” he grumbled. To his annoyance, Ludwig didn’t answer and instead led him down the hallways, past doors and windows that revealed weight rooms, people working out, running the track, playing basketball, tennis, volleyball and innumerable other sports and activities. Gilbert had never been to the school’s rec center before, and for good reason. Ludwig went there all the time, and there was no way Gilbert was going to set himself up to be compared to his overly muscular little brother.

“Zhis vay.” Ludwig was holding a door open and Gilbert stepped through without complaint. It was a smaller gym, older and obviously not in as good of condition as most of the other rooms in the rec center. Despite being fairly larger, there wasn’t much in it. Just a raised platform surrounded by ropes, and various bags hanging near the walls. A boxing ring and punching bags.

Gilbert looked at Ludwig, waiting for an explanation; the blond grinned and gestured.

“Velcome to Zhe Boxing Room.”

“Vhy are ve here, Ludvig?”

“Because you’re pissed and zhere are zhings here you can hit vizhout getting in trouble. Now come on.” Obviously comfortable with this room and the few people who were there, Ludwig crossed the floor to a row of lockers and opened one to take out a pair of red boxing gloves, which he tossed to his older brother. “Put zhem on.”

Not entirely convinced about this, Gilbert did as he was told then allowed Ludwig to steer him to one of the larger punching bags hanging from the ceiling a good ways from everything else.

“Hit it.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Ludvig, zhis is stupid. I haven’t done zhis in years.”

“So prove you can still do it, _bruder_.”

Sighing, the albino fixed his stance and lifted his hands. It had been a long time since he last wore boxing gloves, and these ones obviously hadn’t been used very much, but they were comfortable and fit well enough. A deep breath, then his right arm struck out, slamming into the punching bag with enough force to make it sway considerably. The energy raced back up his arm and down his spine.

_Damn…zhat felt…good…_

Without pausing to think anything more than that, he did the same with his left hand, then right again, until he’d settled into a quick but steady pace. Each blow was like a shockwave, jacking him up higher until he was laughing, laughing harder than he’d ever done in his life. And Ludwig simply stood by and watched, a small smile on his face. He let Gilbert at the bag for over an hour before he noticed the albino’s movements were slowing. Finally, he stepped up and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Better?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, and Gilbert grinned at him, not his usual cocky, I-don’t-give-a-fuck grin, but a grin that was happy and exhilarated.

“Better. Much better.” Red eyes examined the punching bag then the gloves protecting his knuckles. He’d be sore tomorrow, but that was all right. He’d always liked the feeling of being sore after a workout; it made him feel like he’d accomplished something.

“Good. You going to tell me vhat pissed you off so much?”

A sigh worked its way out of him as Gilbert took off the gloves. “Francis.”

That was all the explanation Ludwig needed—he’d been there for that entire catastrophe, after all—and he didn’t ask for any details. He was just glad that getting Gilbert to box a bit had helped.

“Hey, Ludvig.”

“ _Ja?_ ”

“Can I do zhis again tomorrow?”

Now the blond’s grin matched his albino brother’s. “I’d be upset if you didn’t.”

“Cool.”

This was working out better than Ludwig had dared to hope.


	13. Chapter 13

_Look at me. I know you know I’m looking. Just look. Please._

Seconds passed. Minutes. His grip grew tighter and tighter until the pencil he was holding creaked softly; instantly, his hand went limp and the utensil dropped to the desk top. It was useless. No matter how much he wished and wanted and shouted in his head, he couldn’t bring himself to actually say anything out loud. Especially not now, not in this class.

Unfocused blue-violet eyes drifted towards the front of the classroom where the professor stood, giving a lecture over…weapons or something like that. He hadn’t been listening at all and hadn’t taken a single note, either. Even though he was usually a very good student, the past few days hadn’t seen his best work.

_There’s no way he’s actually paying attention. Damn it! No!_

Forcibly, Matthew tore his gaze from where it had once again wandered and trained it on the teacher. Staring at Gilbert wouldn’t do him any good. The albino hadn’t so much as glanced at him the entire time they’d been in the same room together. He just sat in his desk, staring straight ahead and looking completely bored, exactly as he’d done on Monday. So far, it didn’t look like the Wednesday session of this class was going to be any different.

And yet, he couldn’t help but watch the older boy out of the corner of his eye, hardly daring to hope that Gilbert might just lose focus and look over at him.

_One glance. That’s all I want. Acknowledge me. I can’t stand this. I hate it._

Sure, one glance was all he wanted, but he didn’t know what he’d do if the white-haired Prussian _did_ decide to look over and catch Matthew staring. Smile? Wave? Stare back because he couldn’t think of anything better to do? There was no point in hoping Gilbert would look at him. It wouldn’t help anything, anyway.

Lowering his eyes, Matthew let out a barely audible sigh and slumped lower in his chair. This was awful. He’d rather go through bullying like in grade school or find out that he had even more siblings that he’d never met. He’d rather have a tooth knocked out or get a black eye or even suffer a broken bone than let this go on any longer. Three days was bad enough. Three days was far too long to go without talking to his best friend.

_That’s it. I’m talking to him. As soon as class is over, I’ll catch up to him outside and apologize and explain and we’ll be friends again. I’ll be able to breathe again._

It felt better to know that he at least had a plan and was going to do his best to fix things with the older student. The possibility that he might incur Gilbert’s anger all over again was terrifying, but he shoved those thoughts away. No matter how angry the albino might still be, he couldn’t let that keep him from trying to get back the friendship he missed so much.

Determined, the Canadian sat up a little straighter in his chair and picked up his pencil so he could start taking notes. Now was no time for slacking off.

For the rest of the class, he put all of his attention on the professor and the lecture being given—turned out to be about how different wars had been fought with different tactics—so that he would have at least some notes when it came time to study. And when the lecture was over, he packed his things as quickly as he could manage, heart rate rising to think that he was going to talk to Gilbert, was going to fix things and get them back to normal. But when he turned to the older boy’s desk, it was empty, and there was no sign of white hair anywhere in the classroom.

_He’s already outside._

Bag held tight, Matthew made his way out of the room as quickly as he was able, rushing to find Gilbert so he could talk to the older student. It wasn’t until he made it out of the social sciences building that he spotted the back of a white-haired head, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Gilbert!”

The older boy didn’t slow or stop or turn or give any sign at all that he’d heard his name being called, but Matthew wasn’t willing to be so easily put off.

“Gilbert, wait! I need to talk to you!” He’d never been so frustrated by his own soft voice before. If he could only raise it to the volume of an actual shout, he’d have a better chance of catching Gilbert’s attention!

“Gil!” Pushing people aside and earning a few muttered curses from his fellow students, Matthew fought to catch up to the older boy, finally getting close enough to reach out and grip his arm. “Hey!”

Immediately, Gilbert froze, his entire frame tensing as students parted to walk around them. His red eyes continued to stare straight ahead as if he couldn’t bring himself to look down at the blond. “Let go, Matzhew.”

“I want to talk to you, Gilbert,” Matthew responded, out of breath from his efforts of catching the older boy. “Please, just—”

Before he could finish, Gilbert pulled his arm free and shook his head. “ _Nein,_ Matzhew. I don’t have time right now.” Then he walked away, leaving Matt standing alone in the middle of the sidewalk. Dozens of students continued to walk past him, gave him strange looks because he was standing there frozen, his expression one of shock and hurt. Gilbert had shaken him off, had completely ignored him, had purposefully walked away without saying good bye or looking at him. It hurt just as bad now as it had on Sunday night, maybe even worse.

Matthew’s shoulders drooped, his head lowered until he was staring at the sidewalk so that no one would see the tears gathering in his eyes. He fidgeted with his bag and forced himself to start walking in the direction of his own dorm, taking slow, deliberate breaths all the way there so that he wouldn’t break down in the middle of campus.

The sanctuary of his dorm had never been so welcome; he dropped his bag to the floor unceremoniously and kicked off his sneakers without bothering to watch where they landed. Then he clambered up into his loft and lay there, face half shoved into his pillow as shallow, shuddering breaths escaped him. Gilbert wanted nothing to do with him, and he had no one to blame but himself.

_I should have told him I was going. I should have invited him or made plans to see him after. I should’ve done_ something. He thinks I lied to him.

The tears that had begun gathering outside finally began to fall as Matthew remembered the look on Gilbert’s face, the initial confusion at the texts, how guilty he felt over what had happened. The guilt was eating at him, making him feel dirty and broken and worthless.

_It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to see him._

Maybe that was true, but Matthew didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he was completely cut off from Gilbert so suddenly. They’d met in their history class, after all, that day Gilbert stood up for him against the teacher who couldn’t remember Matt’s name. That had been their first ever interaction; lending him a pencil.

_Stupid pencil._

The door opened and closed but Matthew remained exactly as he was, letting the slow-falling tears soak into his pillow.

“Hey, Mattie.”

Not bothering to move, Matthew let out a broken sigh as the only response to his brother’s subdued greeting. The last few days had been strange for the two of them, not that either brother would admit that.

_He hates me._

It made his heart hurt to think about it.

“How was class?” The older blond’s tone was forced light and curious, making him sound nervous and like his voice was a little higher than normal.

“Fine.”

“Was Gilbert there?”

Matthew’s throat tightened but he managed a soft, “Yeah.”

“Did he talk to you about Sunday?”

“No, I…tried.”

“Tried?”

“He…he didn’t want to talk to me.”

“Well.” There was a pause. “Maybe he’s still upset.”

“He hates me.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Matthew looked up when he felt the loft shift and found that Alfred had partially climbed up the side in order to look at him.

“He doesn’t hate you, Mattie. You didn’t do anything wrong. So you went to dinner with your brother and friends—big deal. Gilbert overreacted and if he’s this pissed over that then I don’t want you hanging out with him anyway. I thought he was gonna grab you or somethin’ the other day, you know, and I was ready to break the bastard’s nose when you started crying. He’s just lucky I stayed to take care of my little brother instead of going after him.”

Silent, Matthew studied the older boy’s set jaw, the slight furrow in his forehead that drew his eyebrows in but not quite together, the honesty and concern in his blue eyes.

Where was this guy while Matt was growing up? He certainly could have used such a protective older brother before now.

“Thanks, Al.” The Canadian forced a small smile that only lasted for a few moments; Alfred’s expression remained the same.

“If he bothers you, I’ll beat the shit out of ‘im.”

_No!_

That wasn’t what Matthew wanted, not even close, but he didn’t argue. The look on Alfred’s face made it clear that he wouldn’t be able to change the American’s mind, anyway. It bothered him to imagine the two of them getting in a fight—they were both so strong—they’d get hurt, maybe bad—because he didn’t want either boy angry at the other, not to the point of fighting. Still, he knew Alfred’s statement was based on his determination to protect his little brother, so he was grateful for that.

“Thank you.”

Satisfied with that response, Alfred climbed back down and moved to his own side of the room. “We’re going to lunch soon. You should come with.”

Lunch? Matthew stomach rumbled softly at the thought of food, but the blond ignored it. “I’m okay.”

“Matt, you can’t stay in here all day again. It’s been three days. Have you even eaten since Sunday night?”

No. “Yes.” Sort of. He’d had an apple yesterday, and half of a sandwich the day before that. It wasn’t healthy, he knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat. He just wasn’t hungry enough to bother.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I ate.”

_Please believe me. Don’t make me get up. I don’t want to go._

Alfred sighed. “Mattie—” He was interrupted by someone knocking on the door and stopped, glancing at the loft where Matthew lay completely still before he moved to answer. “Hey, Francis.”

“ _Bonjour,_ Alfreed. ‘ow are you zees fine morning?”

“I’m fine. You?”

“Well enough.”

Barely lifting his head, Matthew peered over the side of his mattress at the Frenchman who had just entered his dorm. The older boy smiled at him, though there was concern in his eyes.

“ _Bonjour, Matthieu. Comment vous sentez-vous?_ ” he asked, tilting his head just slightly so that his hair fell away from his face.

It took the Canadian several moments to come up with a response. “ _Fatigué._ ”

“Ah, zhat ees too bad. Would you care to join us for lunch?”

“I already asked. He’s not hungry,” Alfred responded before Matt had even taken a breath to speak. A little guilty due to the tone his brother had used, Matthew lowered his head onto his pillow again so he wouldn’t have to see Alfred’s disapproving expression as the two older boys left; the door clicked shut behind them and he let out a sigh, his eyes falling shut.

_I lied to Alfred. I made Gilbert mad enough that he won’t even talk to me, and I lied to the one person in this country who genuinely cares about me._

What on earth was happening to him? He’d never done anything like this before. People didn’t get mad at him, not like Gilbert was. Sure, his classmates in high school picked on him and teased him about being so quiet and for liking boys, but that had only happened on those rare occasions when they actually noticed him. Now he’d managed to lose the first friend he’d made in America. And he’d just been getting close to Alfred as a brother, only to lie to him about eating so the older boy would leave him alone.

_No one noticed me before, so I had no one to upset and no one to lie to. Is this what happens when you make friends? Have I always been this kind of person?_

That made him feel even worse. America wasn’t the place everyone seemed to think it was. All that hype about “the land of opportunity” was completely false. He would have been better off staying home and going to the local community college. Then none of this would ever have happened. He’d be safe with his mother and Kuma and he never would have met Gilbert Beilschmidt or known he had an older half-brother. Besides, he hadn’t wanted to come to America in the first place.

_I want to go home._

X

It was so easy, the most natural thing in the world. The way his muscles bunched and stretched as he moved, the jarring sensations that ran up his arms and into his torso with every hit. Sweat beaded on his face and he shook his head to keep it out of his eyes, not caring that his shirt was nearly drenched with it or that several pairs of eyes were watching him. So what? Right now, in this moment, he didn’t care about anything but the faded, dull red bag that swung away then back only to be hit again. All of his focus was centered on it, blocking out all thoughts about anything else. The perfect distraction.

Why had he ever stopped doing this? Boxing had been his passion in high school, the one thing he’d always been better at than Ludwig, not that many people had noticed. Yet it was Ludwig who’d brought him to the gym, given him the gloves he now wore and forced him to take his anger out on the inoffensive punching bag. And Gilbert couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so powerful.

This was his world, the boxing ring. Here, he outdid the blond that was favored by everyone else. He outdid everyone.

“Gilbert!” a familiar voice called, breaking his concentration. Gilbert gave the punching bag one last hard hit before stepping back out of the way as it swung, red eyes moving to land on an approaching Ludwig.

“ _Hallo,_ Ludvig,” he responded, slightly out of breath from the amount of effort he’d just been exerting.

The blond eyed the punching bag, clearly impressed by how hard Gilbert had been hitting it. “Vorking hard, I see.”

Gilbert shrugged, though he was grinning slightly. “ _Ja,_ vell, zhere’s no ozher vay to box.”

“Have you gotten in zhe ring yet?”

“ _Nein._ ” The albino’s grin spread and he gestured at the other students currently in the room. “Zhere is no vone here brave enough to fight me.”

That made the younger brother laugh and he placed a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. “Vell, ve vill have to find some vone vizh zhe nerve to go against you. For now, zhough, it is time for dinner. Are you finished?”

Gilbert eyed the punching bag then nodded; he was satisfied with what he’d done for the day. “ _Ja,_ and starving.”

“Zhen get your zhings and let’s go.”

It only took Gilbert a couple of minutes to put his gloves back in the locker that was technically checked out under Ludwig’s name, then followed the blond out of the gym after picking up his bag.

“Feliciano is meeting us at zhe cafeteria.”

He didn’t respond to that, knowing that Ludwig would scold him if he complained or said anything mean about the little brunet. It was only dinner, anyway. He could tolerate the Italian for that long.

“Ludwig!”

Both boys looked to see Feliciano standing by the doors to the cafeteria, waving excitedly. A fond smile appeared on Ludwig’s face and he started walking faster so that he reached the brunet before Gilbert did, wrapping Feliciano in a hug and lifting him slightly. Gilbert couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though he was careful not to let anyone see his reaction to the cutesy sap that his little brother really was.

“ _Ciao,_ ” Feliciano greeted them breathlessly once Ludwig had placed him back on his feet, his usual smile in place. He glanced at Ludwig then shyly held his hand out to Gilbert. “I don’t think we were ever really introduced. I’m Feliciano Vargas.”

Okay, so his accent was kind of adorable and he was so small that Gilbert knew he could easily have lifted the Italian and carried him off with little to no effort, but he refused to smile as he accepted Feliciano’s hand and shook it. “Gilbert Beilschmidt.” A glance at Ludwig revealed that the blond was doing his best not to show how pleased he was that they’d finally spoken to each other. Gilbert narrowed his eyes at his little brother, daring him to say something, and Ludwig cleared his throat.

“Dinner, _ja?_ ” he asked, holding the door open so that Feliciano could go first; the brunet practically skipped ahead as Ludwig and Gilbert followed him.

“ _Fein. Er ist nicht so schlimm,_ ” he admitted grudgingly, and Ludwig grinned, his blue eyes glued to the back of Feliciano’s head.

“ _Ich wusste sie würden kommen um schließlich, groß bruder,_ ” the blond replied quietly, and for the first time, Gilbert realized how important it was to Ludwig that he and Feliciano get along. In all the time that the German had been dating the brunet, Gilbert had never thought that Ludwig actually wanted his approval. The realization made him feel like an ass for not noticing, but, at the same time, he was pleased that Ludwig actually cared what he thought.

Silent, he exchanged small smiles with his little brother as they followed the happy Italian into the cafeteria for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Rough) Translations:  
> Bonjour, Matthieu. Comment vous sentez-vous?  
> French: “Hello, Matthew. How do you feel?”  
> Fatigué.  
> French: “Tired.”  
> Fein. Er ist nicht so schlimm.  
> German: “Fine. He’s not so bad.”  
> Ich wusste sie würden kommen um schließlich, groß bruder.  
> German: “I knew you would come around eventually, big brother.”


	14. Chapter 14

He was sore. His muscles burned with every movement, and there was a bruise on his jaw that ached when he talked and chewed. Even lifting his arm to hold a pencil and write was uncomfortable, but he didn’t mind it. This was a type of pain that Gilbert had always enjoyed, the soreness in his muscles that meant he’d worked hard, a sensitive bruise to show that he’d taken a hit and come out on top, especially considering that the male student who’d given him the bruise on his jaw had ended up with worse injuries, though nothing too serious.

It was a matter of pride that Gilbert didn’t bother trying to hide any of the injuries he received from boxing matches. Why should he be embarrassed? Boxing was a dangerous sport and anyone who came out of it without even the smallest bruises wasn’t fighting hard enough. Besides, he thought the bruises made him look like a badass.

“Is Feli coming over tonight?” the albino asked out loud without looking up from his homework.

“ _Ja,_ to vatch zhat movie ve rented,” Ludwig replied from his place at his desk with his own text books. The two brothers spent at least three hours on homework every day even though midterms were over. This was common practice for Ludwig, who had always considered his studies to be important, but it was new and still strange for Gilbert, as he’d only been doing it for about a week.

Gilbert put down the notes he’d been looking over and sat up so he wasn’t quite lounging on his bed. “Do you vant me to leave vhen he gets here _und_ give you some privacy?”

“ _Nein,_ you do not have to do zhat. Actually, Feliciano asked me to ask you to join us.”

“Vhat, you mean, vatch it vizh you?”

“ _Ja._ ”

A small smirk appeared on Gilbert’s face. “I zhought your little Italian vas scared of me. Vhy vould he vant me to join in on your movie?”

Broad shoulders rose and fell as Ludwig shrugged. “He isn’t scared of you anymore, not since you started being nice to him. He likes you.”

The smirk turned into an outright grin. “Of course he does. I am Zhe Awesome Me, after all. How could he not like me?”

“Shut up, Gilbert. You’re being an asshole again.”

Gilbert laughed at his brother’s response—the blond had been more forward lately about his opinions on what Gilbert did and said—and laid back down again. “You don’t mean zhat.”

“ _Ja,_ I do. You’re an asshole.”

“But you love me anyvay, _bruder,_ ” the albino sang, unable to help himself. Yes, he knew that Ludwig cared for him, probably more than just about anyone else in the world, save for their mother. But that didn’t mean the blond wasn’t going to give him a hard time now and then.

_Zhough, being zhe older bruder, I should be zhe vone giving_ him _a hard time._

Well, he’d always given Ludwig trouble, even through things as simple as not being as neat as the German wanted him to be while they were sharing a dorm. It wasn’t exactly hard to get on Ludwig’s nerves. Gilbert thought it was kind of funny when his little brother tried to scold him for being cocky. They both knew it wasn’t going to do much to change the albino’s behavior, but Ludwig seemed to have reached his limit for simply ignoring those moments when Gilbert annoyed him. So every time the blond accused him of being an asshole or some other thing, he grinned and laughed and just continued whatever it was that he was doing.

They hadn’t gotten along so well in a long, long time.

_It’s strange, but not bad._

Red eyes settled on the back of Ludwig’s head as Gilbert decided he’d earned a short break from homework.

_Lud’s still a pain in zhe ass sometimes, but ve’ve gotten along better since I started boxing again._

There was no denying it. Gilbert’s mood had greatly improved over the last week and he knew it was because he was exercising and boxing again. It made him feel more awake, more prepared and ready to take on the day. That, and he could already see a difference in his physique—the strain of boxing was quickly adding size and definition to his muscles—and he definitely liked what he saw.

_Just vait._ A malicious grin spread over his face as he continued to stare at the back of Ludwig’s head, though he wasn’t really seeing him anymore. _I’ll show zhat priss vhat I can do. He’ll never fuck vizh me ever again. Vonce I’m officially on zhe boxing team and finally make a name for myself, he’ll see zhat I’m not someone to mess vizh. Zhey’ll all see._

He didn’t let himself think it in so many words, but he also wanted to show Matthew what the blond was missing out on. Of course, he wouldn’t actually know if Matthew really noticed him, since they weren’t speaking anymore. Not for about a week now.

That was weird to think about. Admittedly, he missed the quiet Canadian. Matthew had been fun to spend time with, fun to talk to and, hell, he’d definitely enjoyed flirting with the younger boy. Not having Matthew around was a little lonely at times, not that Gilbert gave himself many opportunities to think about that. He tried to keep himself as busy as possible lately, what with boxing and homework and classes and spending time with Lud.

_I don’t miss him,_ the albino told himself firmly, finally tearing his gaze away from Ludwig and forcing himself to pick up his homework once more. _He lied to me in order to flirt vizh Francis and zhat’s it. Ve’re not friends anymore._

He’d told himself that exact thing countless times during the past week. Somehow, it wasn’t making him feel any better, and that was the most frustrating thing in the world.

_Damn Canadian._

About another hour of near-silence went by as the two brothers continued to study, only to be interrupted by the sound of a soft knock on the door.

“I’ll get it.” Abandoning his homework, Ludwig got up from his desk to answer the door; he smiled. “ _Hallo,_ Feliciano.”

“ _Ciao!_ ” the happy Italian replied as he entered the room; he offered a small wave to Gilbert. “ _Ciao,_ Gilbert!”

The older boy grinned and sat up on his bed, shoving his homework to the side for later. “Hey, Feli. Vhat’s up?”

“Ve~Ludwig and I are going to watch a movie!”

There was that odd little sigh thing the brunet always seemed to make, the one that put a stupid, sappy smile on Ludwig’s face and that even Gilbert had to admit was pretty cute.

“You’re vatching _Insidious, ja?_ ” he asked, though he already knew the answer to that question. Ludwig had shown him the rented DVD earlier that day and it looked like it was going to be a pretty scary movie. It had seemed a little odd that Feliciano—as cowardly as he openly admitted to being—was willing to watch it for no reason other than that Ludwig enjoyed scary movies just as much as Gilbert did. Though, when the albino thought about it, he decided he wouldn’t mind watching a scary movie if he was Feliciano as long as he had someone like Ludwig to protect him from the monsters.

_Oh, now you’re turning into a real sap, Gil._

“ _Si!_ ” Feliciano answered the older student’s question with a wide smile; he looked up at Ludwig. “Are we having popcorn, too?”

The blond chuckled and nodded as he reached out to ruffle Feliciano’s hair, though he avoided the brunet’s long curl of hair. Seeing it made Gilbert remember when he’d done the same to Matthew, except he hadn’t been careful of the blond’s curl because he hadn’t known.

Damn but that moment had frightened him. He’d been terrified when Matt’s knees suddenly buckled and the Canadian collapsed—how had he even managed to move fast enough to catch the younger student? And with Gilbird’s cage pinned between them? It still upset him to think what could have happened if Matthew had hit his head, if Gilbert hadn’t caught him, all because of that one curl.

_Feliciano’s curl must be zhe same as Matzhew’s. Is zhat really such a common zhing? Zhey’re not even zhe same race._

Maybe that didn’t matter, though. Plenty of people who came from completely different parts of the world could have similar interests, could look alike. The hair curl thing probably wasn’t even unusual. Besides, turning Matthew on was as easy as blowing on the back of his neck or touching that curl or, hell, Gilbert knew he’d gotten the Canadian into a state of pre-arousal shyness more than once simply by flirting.

_So easy to mess vizh,_ the albino thought fondly, his lips starting to curve in the very beginnings of a smile. As soon as he realized it, though, he bit his tongue to force the smile to fade and mentally scolded himself. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking that way anymore, damn it. For a moment, though, he couldn’t help but picture Matthew’s face just the way he’d looked when Gilbert had confronted him. Blue-violet eyes shone with tears behind glasses that were always slipping down the Canadian’s nose when he wasn’t paying attention. His hair had been hanging in his face a little, arms held to his chest as if to protect himself or like he had instinctively moved to hug something. The blond’s lower lip trembled even as he tried, ever so quietly, to defend himself.

The memory made his heart hurt; he didn’t like the way things had played out, didn’t like that Matthew had started crying because it made him feel like he was supposed to comfort the younger boy, yet now he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the blond. Not in class, not when Matthew had tried to talk to him on Wednesday. He just couldn’t look at him because if he did, if he looked into those blue-violet eyes and saw how upset Matthew was then he wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’d cave and hug the Canadian, promise to never say a single harsh word to him ever again.

“Hey, Gil.”

His focus broken, Gilbert blinked several times before looking up at Ludwig, who was watching him with mild concern. “Yeah?”

“Ve’re starting zhe movie—are you vatching vizh us or not?”

Oh, right. The movie. Something to help keep his mind away from matters he didn’t want to think about.

“ _Ja,_ I am.”

“Then come on!” Feliciano urged in his usual sleepy-happy tone. “We made popcorn!”

Gilbert didn’t try to hold back a quiet laugh at the Italian’s enthusiasm as he got up and joined them on the futon. Feliciano sat in the middle while Gilbert and Ludwig sat on either side of him with a blanket covering their laps—Ludwig had an arm around the smaller male’s shoulders—and the small TV they had was set up on the coffee table where they could easily see it.

“Is this movie really scary, Lud?” the Italian asked, suddenly sounding nervous. Ludwig smiled and kissed his boyfriend’s temple.

“ _Ja,_ a little. But don’t vorry—you can hide in zhe blanket during zhe scary parts.”

His response calmed Feliciano enough for the brunet to snuggle down in the blanket, leaning against Ludwig as the movie began. Beside them, Gilbert had never felt so lonely.

X

Frowning, Matthew stared at his fingers, watched them tremble and examined how they’d somehow become even paler than before. They were bonier, too, and he couldn’t force them to hold still no matter how hard he tried. He’d noticed the shaking a few days ago but hadn’t paid much attention to it—now it was to the point where he dropped his pencil if he didn’t make a conscious effort to keep a good grip on it. It was as if his fingers simply had no strength left.

Come to think of it, he felt like his entire body had grown significantly weaker, and his clothes felt like they were fitting looser than they’d used to.

_I’ve lost a lot of weight in a really short amount of time._

The thought was slow and he couldn’t help but be a little frustrated by that because he knew he was smart and knew that he was capable of understanding why he felt the way he did. He knew full well it was because he still couldn’t bring himself to eat more than a few bites of this or that each day. And for someone who’d always been on the skinnier side of things, he was starting to think he would soon resemble a skeleton. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Even now he was curled up in bed, arms wrapped securely around his largest pillow as he cuddled it in a near desperate attempt to feel protected. God, he missed cuddling. He missed cuddling and watching movies, arguing over what to watch and what snacks to have, whether to do homework before or after, when to go to dinner. He missed all those stupid little arguments, and he missed the person he’d argued with.

_Gilbert…_

How could this have happened to him? He felt so…useless. His grades were going to slip soon because he couldn’t dredge up the motivation to study and hadn’t been taking notes in his classes. It probably wouldn’t be long before he decided he didn’t want to go to class anymore and simply stayed in bed all day. Yeah, he could do that. Just lay in bed, hugging his pillow, never having to deal with other people or pretend he was happy so that Alfred wouldn’t worry about him too much.

His poor big brother. It was easy to see that Alfred knew Matthew lied about eating. The Canadian felt bad about that, but not enough to stop. Not enough to let Alfred convince him to leave the dorm and go eat an actual meal.

_I’m not hungry. I don’t want to go out. There’s too many people. The world’s so loud and busy and crowded. I just want to stay here where it’s quiet and I can be alone._

Arms tightening, Matthew buried his face in the pillow and willed himself to imagine that it was a person, that instead of the soft pillow he was hugging Gilbert, had his face pressed into the albino’s shoulder as a hand gently ran through his hair. Gilbert had done that on occasion, if Matthew was more frightened than normal by one of the scary movies the Prussian always wanted to watch. Those had been the best moments, when he knew without a doubt that the older boy cared about him because of the way Gilbert would hug him and stroke his hair and assure him that he didn’t need to be so afraid of a silly old movie, anyway. It had always worked to make him feel better and at that moment there was nothing else in the world he wanted more than to feel that way again.

The Canadian heaved a sigh; it wasn’t working. His brain simply refused to accept the imaginary Prussian he was trying to pretend was there with him.

“I miss you,” he whispered, tears pricking at his eyes. That was a feeling he had become painfully accustomed to over the last several days.

“Miss who, _mon cher?_ ”

Startled, Matthew froze. He recognized the voice and of course he only knew one person here who spoke French, but he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized that someone else had come into the dorm. He debated whether or not he should answer that question, since he knew full well that Francis didn’t care for Gilbert and didn’t consider the albino someone worth being upset over. But he was tired of lying.

“Gilbert,” he muttered without pulling his face away from the pillow. “I miss him.”

“Ah.” It was quiet for a moment and Matthew began to wonder if he’d upset the older blond. “May I join you, _Matthieu?_ ”

What? Join him? In his bed? “U-um…sure, I guess…”

“ _Merci._ ”

He could feel the loft shift as Francis began to climb up the ladder and quickly maneuvered himself closer to the wall to make room for the Frenchman. The mattress dipped as another body settled on it, and Matthew peeked at his new companion, the pillow still held to his chest. It surprised him how close Francis had placed himself to the younger boy—there was less than a foot of space between them, though considering how narrow the bed was, there wasn’t really enough room for any more than that.

Blue eyes examined what little of his face was visible and a concerned frown appeared on Francis’ elegant face. “You’ve lost weight, _mon cher,_ and you look exhausted.”

Matthew didn’t try to deny it. Obviously he wasn’t eating as much as he should and he wasn’t sleeping well, either, so he simply nodded because Francis was completely correct.

“’ow much ‘ave you been eating, _Matthieu?_ ” the older boy questioned, reaching out to take the Canadian’s hand into his own. Matthew watched him watch his fingers tremble and the frown deepened. “Not enough, I see.”

There was no use trying to deny that, either. All of Alfred’s friends knew that he wasn’t taking care of himself anymore, including Francis.

“ _Matthieu,_ please, you cannot do zees to yourself. It is un’ealthy and I cannot stand seeing you so…so… _miserable._ Eet absolutely breaks my ‘eart, _mon amour,_ ” Francis admitted quietly, still holding Matthew’s hand. “Please, do not torture yourself like zees. ‘e does not deserve you, anyway.”

They looked at each other, Francis concerned for the younger boy’s well-being, Matthew silent and all but unresponsive. He couldn’t think of anything to say to that, especially considering that his mind was stuck on what Francis had called him.

_“Mon amour.” He called me “my love.”_

“ _Matthieu?_ ”

“Why…why’d you call me that?” the Canadian asked softly, lifting a little more of his face away from the pillow so he could look at Francis more directly.

“Call you what?”

“’ _Mon amour._ ’”

A smile graced Francis’ lips and he took one hand away from Matthew’s in order to gently touch the younger boy’s pale, slightly bony face. “Because, _mon amour,_ ”—Matthew blushed to hear it again—“zhat ees what I call zhe people I care about.”

Francis…cared about him? Well, of course he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t be lying in Matthew’s bed, trying to comfort him and make him feel better.

“I…I care about you, too, Francis,” he whispered, overwhelmed by the sense of gratitude he felt towards the Frenchman. “Really. I…thank you.”

“For what, _mon cher?_ ”

For the first time in days, Matthew managed a genuine smile. It was small and feeble, but genuine all the same. “For making me feel better.”

“Ah.” That soft, gentle hand caressed his cheek and Matthew let his eyes fall closed as he enjoyed the comforting touch. “It ees zhe least I can do.”

His eyes opened again and Matthew summed up his courage. Pushing the pillow out of the way, he shifted closer to the older boy and looked directly into those blue eyes. “Francis…”

“ _Oui, mon amour?_ ” The Frenchman’s smile was still in place, though it had grown softer; his hand fell still, cupping Matthew’s cheek.

Matthew opened his mouth to say it, but couldn’t bring himself to form the words. He was just too shy to say it out loud, so he closed his mouth again and quickly leaned forward to brush his lips against Francis’ in a chaste kiss before moving away again, his cheeks turning a dark pink as he looked down shyly.

Surprised, Francis blinked rapidly then chuckled. “What was zhat for, _Matthieu?_ ”

“Because…I like you…” The words were less than a whisper, quiet even for Matthew. It was silent for a moment before gentle fingers tilted his chin up so that he met Francis’ gaze once more.

“ _Et je vous aime, Matthieu. Tu me plais bien._ ” His free arm wrapped around the younger boy’s waist to draw him closer and for a moment Matthew thought the Frenchman meant to kiss him, but Francis simply tucked the Canadian’s head under his chin and held him close. Matthew’s only reaction was to press his face into the older student’s neck, his own arms winding around Francis to hold onto him tightly.

This, this contact, this comfort and sincerity and unadulterated, genuine affection was the best feeling in the world. Francis cared about him. Francis wanted to be there for him, wanted to make him feel better. And as he lay there, comfortably snuggled against the slightly larger male, breathing in the delicate scent of roses—he’d never noticed it before, but he thought it suited this elegant man—Matthew decided that he was going to let Francis do those things because Francis was the only person in his life who _could_ do those things.

“ _Merci,_ Francis,” the younger blond sighed, eyes closing as the warmth seeped into him and he began to doze off.

“ _Vous êtes les bienvenus, Matthieu._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Rough) Translations:  
> Mon cher  
>  French: “My dear.”  
> Merci  
>  French: “Thank you.”  
> Mon amour  
>  French: “My love.”  
> Et je vous aime, Matthieu. Tu me plais bien.  
>  French: “And I like you, Matthew. I like you very much.”  
> Vous êtes les bienvenus  
>  French: “You are very welcome.”


	15. Chapter 15

Matthew couldn’t stop blushing. His face was beet red and he could feel the heat coming off of it, but no matter what he tried, he couldn’t stop. So he’d settled for keeping his eyes glued to the sidewalk to hide his blush and the little half-smile that also refused to go away.

“Why are you ‘iding your eyes, _Matthieu?_ ” a familiar voice questioned softly. “ _Zhey are too pretty for zhat, you know.”_

Blush deepening, Matthew forced himself to lift his head and did his best to smile at the boy walking beside him.

“Zhere, eesn’t zhat better?” Francis asked, his own kind smile in place. Gently, he squeezed Matthew’s hand before lifting it and kissing the younger boy’s fingers. “You do not ‘ave to be so shy, _mon amour._ ”

“ _Oui, merci,_ Francis,” the Canadian mumbled shyly. It felt like everyone was staring at them, at the fact that they were holding hands, though no one was. The others, Antonio and Arthur and Ivan and Alfred and Yao, had gotten their teasing out of the way and had already adjusted to viewing Francis and Matthew as a pair over the last few days. And Matthew had to admit that he was enjoying being outside again. Late October was beautiful with its colorful leaves and the chilly edge on the breeze, and Alfred was more excited for Halloween than anyone Matthew had ever met.

“Dude, it’s gonna be awesome! The teachers all give out candy and you can wear costumes to class! Then there’s the dance and of course we’ll go out for drinks after that!” Blue eyes bright and eager, Alfred rambled off about what he was going to wear this year and how epic his costume was. He planned on hoarding as much candy as he could so that he could gorge himself on it after the dance. It wasn’t the first time any of them had heard it, though Antonio and Arthur were more than willing to join in on the conversation each time it came up.

“Are you dressing up for Halloween, Francis?” Matthew asked, and the Frenchman smiled.

“Of course! Zhough, I am not sure what to be zhis year.”

“Um…” lowering his eyes again, Matthew dredged up his courage, “we could match, if you want.”

Surprised blue eyes landed on him and Francis blinked a few times before smiling widely. “Zhat ees a _magnifique_ idea!”

He pulled the younger boy into a hug and Matthew froze for a moment before returning the affectionate gesture. Sometimes, Francis was spontaneous enough to catch him off-guard, though he didn’t really mind and he was getting more and more used to it all the time.

Slowly, the older boy drew away and took Matthew’s chin into his hand. “ _Tu me fais très plaisir, Matthieu,_ ” he whispered, then leaned in and kissed the slightly shorter blond. It was a soft kiss and only lasted for a few seconds, though Matthew felt his face heat up all over again. In the back of his mind, he registered that the others had gone silent and knew that meant they had noticed what he and Francis were doing, though he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not at that moment, anyway. At that moment he didn’t care because he had Francis and Francis made him happy in a way he hadn’t been in days, and he made Francis happy and knowing that made him feel like he could do anything.

“All right, all right! Break it up, lovebirds!” Alfred’s voice interrupted them, and the two blonds moved away from each other with embarrassed laughs, though Francis didn’t let go of Matthew’s hand. “Are we going to dinner or what?”

“We are,” Francis affirmed as the group began walking again, “ _et vous allez finir votre repas._ ”

The last part was murmured so that only Matthew would hear, and the Canadian nodded submissively. Francis had taken it upon himself to make sure that Matthew got back into the habit of eating again and the shy blond was more grateful than he could say. His stomach capacity had severely decreased over the last week so it didn’t take very much food for him to feel full. Even then, Francis insisted that he take extra food and put it in the fridge to save for later so that he could eat it once he was hungry again. The best part, though, was how discreet Francis was being about it. Matthew knew that the others knew he hadn’t been eating, but they weren’t talking about it or making comments. They just let Francis keep an eye on him as if it was completely normal, and Matthew was extremely grateful for that.

He was actually starting to feel like he could function again. In fact, he could feel the beginnings of hunger start to stir in his stomach as they moved closer to the cafeteria and for the first time in days he was looking forward to dinner. The upper part of the cafeteria was a buffet so he knew there would be plenty of options to choose from and even though he probably wouldn’t eat very much, he could always follow Francis’ advice—though it was usually phrased as an order—and take some back with him to his dorm for later.

“What are they serving tonight?” he asked, and even though he spoke softly, Alfred spun around in his place at the head of the group and grinned.

“Pizza bar! And the grill will be open and the sandwich counter, the usual.”

Matthew nodded and Alfred turned around again. A pizza bar sounded pretty good—maybe he could put mushrooms on a slice of cheese pizza.

It was noisy when the group of college students walked into the cafeteria after swiping their student IDs, though it was always fairly loud during dinner time, even on the weekends when fewer students were around. Too busy thinking about food to talk, Alfred led the way to their usual table and abandoned his coat before heading off towards the buffet to pile a few plates full of food. The others followed in his wake, Matthew trailing behind just a little. He’d never liked crowds and hadn’t managed to get used to them yet, even though he’d joined Alfred and his friends for meals several times before now. They just unnerved him—he usually got bumped into a lot, and he had to repeat what he wanted several times because the servers could never hear him over the other students. But today’s dinner did, in fact, feature a pizza bar, so he avoided the lines at the counters and made a plate for himself before returning to the table they had claimed.

“Whadja get, Mattie?” Alfred asked, already seated with a plate in front of him and several bites missing from his food. Even after living with the taller blond for the last few months, Matthew still had no idea how Alfred managed to get through the lines so quickly, or how he managed to eat as much food as he did. The American was like a bottomless pit.

Silent, the Canadian tilted his plate enough for his older half-brother to see his cheese-and-mushroom pizza without the food falling off onto the table.

“Mushrooms, huh? I thought you were gonna get Canadian bacon.”

Matthew paused before taking his seat. “Canadian bacon?”

“Yeah,” Alfred replied after swallowing a mouthful of food, “pizza with circular pieces of ham on it. Canadian bacon.”

It took several seconds for Matthew to register what his brother had just said, and then he couldn’t help it. He giggled, one pale hand covering his mouth, then the giggles became chuckles which developed into outright laughter. And Alfred sat there staring at him, confused as to why the Canadian was laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” he demanded when Matthew continued to laugh, his face growing red because he thought the younger blond was laughing at him.

“It—it’s not _Canadian,_ ” Matthew eventually forced out, still chuckling though he did his best to control it because Alfred was starting to look offended.

The older boy looked dumb-founded. “Yeah it is, dude. That’s why it’s called Canadian bacon.”

“No, no,” finally, Matthew got himself under control, “that’s American ham. I don’t know why you call it Canadian, but real Canadian bacon is much larger slices and we don’t put it on pizza.”

For a moment, Alfred simply stared at the other blond before cracking a smile. “Heh, guess it’s kinda like how we have French fries.”

“What ees like French fries?” Francis asked, sitting besides Matthew; he took a moment to examine the Canadian’s plate to make sure he had gotten enough food for himself.

“Canadian bacon,” Alfred replied, now more focused on his food than his friends. “It’s not really Canadian, apparently.”

A grin spread over Francis’ face. “You didn’t know zhat?”

Alfred glared. “Shut up, Francis.”

The Frenchman chuckled softly. “Of course, Alfreed.”

A companionable silence fell over the table as the three blonds ate and were joined by their other friends.

“Do you have to use such terrible manners?” Arthur demanded as soon as he sat beside Alfred and noticed how quickly the American was downing his food. It was the same thing he said every time and Alfred, as usual, blushed slightly though he rolled his eyes and pretended not to care that the Briton thought he had bad manners.

“Whatever, dude. I’m not having tea with the queen,” he responded after he swallowed, and Arthur flushed an indignant red.

“Twat,” the green-eyed blond muttered, and Matthew saw Alfred take another bite of food in order to hide the beginnings of a fond smile.

_Oh. He does that on purpose._

It hadn’t occurred to him before that Alfred might be so messy during meals because he knew the shorter blond would notice and comment. After their conversation about the fact that Alfred liked both Arthur and Ivan, he recognized this behavior for what it was and he couldn’t help but think it was sort of cute. Alfred might have resigned himself to not having a chance at dating the haughty Englishman, but he definitely hadn’t given up on the idea of at least sort of flirting with him.

“Zhey would be cute togezher, no?” Francis whispered in his ear, and Matthew nodded silently as he chewed a bite of his pizza.

He could easily see his brother being happy with Arthur, definitely more than he could see him being happy with Ivan. The tall Russian was friendly enough but there was something about him that honestly gave Matthew the creeps. Still, he could see where Alfred’s attraction to him stemmed from.

_It has to be really hard to like them both and not feel like he can do anything about it,_ he thought, blue-violet eyes trained on his brother to watch how the American interacted with the other students. As happy as Alfred always acted…Matthew felt bad for him. At least he’d managed to decide what to do about liking Gilbert while also developing feelings towards Francis. Not that he’d ended up having much choice in what he did about it. Gilbert hated him now, after all.

_Crap._

As soon as he thought about the albino, Matthew’s appetite disappeared. His eyes lowered to the tabletop and he set down his slice of pizza; immediately, a concerned hand touched his shoulder.

“Are you full already?” Francis asked, blue eyes worried beneath a furrowed brow. “You barely ate anyzhing.”

“I’m okay,” he murmured in response, forcing a half smile. “Just…lost my appetite, all of a sudden.”

Understanding came into the Frenchman’s eyes and he took Matthew’s hand into his own, silent. Matthew gave him a grateful look for not saying anything about what they both knew was the reason he couldn’t finish his pizza. For the rest of dinner, he sat with his hand held firmly in the older blond’s as Alfred and his friends ate and talked and laughed. He occasionally joined in so they wouldn’t notice that his own meal was disappearing a nibble at a time, and, of course, Francis maintained his usual level of interaction with his friends.

“We ready to go, dudes?” Alfred was on his feet and gathering his plates—he had a stack of at least four of them, plus a bowl from his ice cream and his silverware and cup—so he could take them to the tray dump and leave.

Matthew paused to listen to one of his favorite things about Alfred’s friends.

“Yes.” Arthur.

“ _Oui._ ” Francis.

“ _Да._ ” Ivan.

“ _Si._ ” Antonio.

“ _Shi._ ” Yao.

It always made him smile to hear them answer in their native tongues, though he himself rarely offered a response whenever Alfred asked if they were ready to leave the cafeteria. The fact that his brother had such a diverse group of friends was impressive and Matthew was glad for it. It would have made him feel out of place if Alfred’s group had consisted of only Americans and then him as the foreigner.

“Come on, _mon amour,_ ” Francis quietly urged, and Matthew wrapped up what was left of his pizza in a few napkins and tucked it into the hoody of his pocket. They weren’t supposed to take food out of the cafeteria, but most of the students ignored that rule. Besides, he’d paid for the food, so he didn’t honestly see why he shouldn’t be allowed to take his leftovers with him. At least he wasn’t throwing them away and wasting them.

Once the pizza was safe in his pocket, the Canadian picked up his plate and cup and stood to leave with the others. It was as he began to turn away from the table that a face caught his eye and he froze, hardly daring to believe it. From several tables away, red eyes stared at him.

_Gilbert._

Why was the albino looking at him like that? As uncomfortable as the older boy’s gaze made him, Matthew couldn’t bring himself to move or look away. Gilbert was sitting at a table next to his brother and the little brunet that Matthew remembered was named Feliciano, someone Gilbert hadn’t had a very high opinion of, though if he was sitting with them then he must have changed his mind. Ludwig and Feliciano didn’t seem to have noticed that the albino’s attention was fixed on something halfway across the cafeteria, and none of the others had noticed that Matthew was still standing by their table, motionless.

It wasn’t until a hand touched the small of Matthew’s back that the Canadian started slightly and turned his head to find Francis at his side. The Frenchman had come back to see what he was staring at, and his blue eyes narrowed when they fell on Gilbert; Matthew looked back in time to see the albino’s expression morph into a glare.

_Oh, no._

Matthew felt himself beginning to tremble under the force of that glare and quickly walked towards the tray dump to put his dishes where the workers could pick them up to wash them. Alfred and the others had gathered into a small cluster to wait, and Matthew slipped into the middle of the pack as they began moving towards the door to leave. Francis was right beside him the whole way, and it was with some relief that he felt the older boy take his hand again.

They’d made it halfway to the stairs to leave the building when a door banged behind them; the entire group paused and turned to see what was going on, curious.

“Shit,” Alfred muttered loud enough for Matthew to hear, and the Canadian nodded slightly because he couldn’t have put it better himself. Francis’ hand tightened and he stepped in front of the group’s youngest blond in a protective manner as the others gathered even closer than they’d been a moment ago.

The cause of the banging door was Gilbert, who, it seemed, had abandoned his table in order to follow them out of the cafeteria, and he looked ready to murder someone. His red eyes wouldn’t have been angrier even if they’d started glowing, and his shoulders were hunched up in a very aggressive posture as he stiffly moved towards the group of college students.

“Move,” he growled at Ivan and Yao, who were standing closest to the cafeteria door. Behind them was Francis with Arthur and Antonio to either side of him, then Matthew, and Alfred bringing up the rear so that they formed a shield around the Canadian.

“ _Нет,_ ” the Russian replied, tone and expression cold as he blocked Gilbert’s path.

“I vant to talk to Matzhew,” the Prussian spat, and Yao, even though he was considerably smaller than both Gilbert and Ivan, took a half step forward.

“You don’t need us to move to do that, aru.”

A low growl sounded in the back of Gilbert’s throat and he lifted his gaze to stare straight at Francis. “Stop acting so protective, priss.”

One of Francis’ eyebrows rose, almost disappearing into his blond hair, and he smiled politely. “Why? I am perfectly weetheen my rights to be protective of my boyfriend, am I not?”

What little color that had been in Gilbert’s face seemed to drain right out of him, and his jaw went slack for a moment. Then his teeth were grinding together and he looked, if possible, even angrier than he had a moment ago. “Your _vhat?_ ”

“My boyfriend, Gilbert,” the Frenchman repeated calmly. “You didn’t really zhink ‘e would wait around for you, did you?”

“Francis, don’t,” Matthew whispered, slipping in between him and Arthur so that he could see the older blond’s face, his hand on the taller blond’s arm. It was the wrong move.

“I fucking knew it,” Gilbert said, his voice dangerously quiet. “Vone veek, and you’re dating zhe priss. _Und_ you expect me to believe zhat you veren’t flirting vizh him before?” He shook his head, letting out a self-mocking chuckle. “I should have seen zhis coming. Vhy vouldn’t you flirt vizh him? Zhough, I did zhink you vere smarter zhan zhis. If you vant to date him, zhen go ahead, but don’t come crying to me vhen he dumps you for not sleeping vizh him.”

Matthew barely had time to register the shock on his friends’ faces and how offended Francis was by that last comment before he’d let go of the Frenchman’s hand and pushed his way past Ivan and Yao.

“You shut up,” he snapped once he was directly in front of Gilbert, aware that several surprised pairs of eyes were glued to him and not caring for a millisecond. Glaring, he stared straight into Gilbert’s red eyes and poked the older boy in the chest with one pale finger. “Don’t you _dare_ accuse Francis of wanting nothing but sex from me. _He_ isn’t the one who blows on the back of my neck while I’m reading because he knows it’ll give me goosebumps. _He_ never ruffles my hair so that I almost collapse. _He_ doesn’t flirt with me with the sole intention of making me embarrassed and flustered. _You_ are the one who did all of that. _You_ made me watch scary movies just so I’d get scared and then you’d get to be the big brave guy and ‘protect’ me. _You_ cuddled with me, _you_ were my first best friend and _you_ made me feel like I was actually wanted for the first time in my life, and all the while _you_ reminded me that you think I’m cute, but not sexy so you’d never really be interested in a guy like me. And then _you, my best friend,_ accused me of being a liar because you got jealous that I spent time with my brother.”

Damn, it felt good to say all of this, to finally get it off his chest. He was mad. He was mad as hell about what Gilbert had done, and now he was finally fed up enough to express it.

“So, if you think that this, chasing after me and insulting me because I’m actually acting on my feelings, is going to fix anything or somehow make you look like the tough guy, then you’re dead wrong. At least I can admit that I like Francis. And guess what—he likes me, too. _That’s_ why I agreed to go out with him, because _I like him,_ not because I’m going to sleep with him, not that what I do with my boyfriend is any of your business.”

He paused to laugh, the sound bitter and spiteful.

“You think you’re so cool, you know? I thought you were cool. I thought you were the best thing that had ever happened to me up until a week and a half ago. But after you yelled at me like that, life didn’t seem to matter anymore. Did you know I stopped eating? I barely managed to get out of bed long enough to go to classes, but you didn’t notice. I even tried to talk to you, and you shook me off like a piece of garbage. You were supposed to be my best friend and you didn’t even notice how upset I was. But Francis noticed, Gilbert, so don’t think even for a second that you are somehow better than him. He’s better than you’ll ever be and I’m glad I figured that out before I made the mistake of trying to be with you.”

Finished with his rant, Matthew waited for a response from the albino, but Gilbert remained silent. His glare had faded somewhat, and his eyes had become an unreadable mixture of emotions, but he had yet to move at all. The older boy’s silence put a rather vicious grin on Matthew’s face and he spun around to face his brother and friends, all of whom were staring at him in astonishment.

“Let’s go,” he muttered, starting to walk away. “I’m done talking to him.” All the way out of the building, he could feel Gilbert’s eyes on the back of his head, but he didn’t let himself look back. He’d said what he wanted to say, and now Gilbert knew exactly how he felt about everything that had happened between them.

“ _Matthieu._ ”

A soft-palmed hand clasped onto his own once they were outside and the Canadian slowed slightly, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “What?”

The grip on his hand gently forced him to a stop and he found himself being turned around to face Francis. There was a small smile on the older boy’s face and he placed a kiss on Matthew’s forehead.

“Zhat was very brave of you, _mon cher,_ ” Francis whispered. “Not even I would ‘ave stood up to Gilbert like zhat.”

Matthew blushed slightly at the compliment, though he wasn’t really sure it had been brave of him to lecture Gilbert. He’d just been too angry not to.

“I didn’t want to let him insult you,” he admitted softly, and Francis’ smile grew.

“Ah, but ‘e and I ‘ave been insulting each ozher for years. I am used to eet.”

Before Matthew had a chance to answer, a hand clapped him on the shoulder and he looked up to find Alfred grinning at him.

“Dude, that was awesome. I didn’t know you had it in you to go off on somebody like that,” the tall blond commented.

“Matthew has quite the temper, _да?_ ” Ivan commented, his usual smile in place as he looked down at the Canadian.

“Yes,” Arthur murmured in agreement, green eyes examining Matthew’s quickly reddening face, “it seems our quiet friend isn’t as quiet as we thought.”

“Course he’s not!” Alfred interrupted, slinging an arm around Matt’s shoulders in obvious pride. “He’s my little brother, after all!”

That got a few chuckles and rolled eyes, though no one tried to argue. But Matthew wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing, now that his anger had faded and he realized what he’d just done. Now there was no chance of being friends with Gilbert again, not after what he’d said to the older boy.

_What do I want to be his friend for, anyway? I’m happy with the friends I have._

Still, he couldn’t help but glance back towards the cafeteria as he was swept off towards the dorm hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Rough) Translations:  
> Tu me fais très plaisir, Matthieu.  
> French: “You make me very happy, Matthew.”  
> …et vous allez finir votre repas.  
> French: “…and you are going to finish your food.”  
> Oui.  
> French: “Yes.”  
> Да.  
> Russian: Yes.”  
> Si.  
> Spanish: “Yes.”  
> Shi.  
> Chinese: “Yes.” (I’m really sorry if this one’s wrong it took me forever to find a translator that had it in my alphabet and not Chinese characters so I just took what I could get)


	16. Chapter 16

Low voices murmured in dozens of conversations. Silverware clinked against dishes and each other. The room was dimly lit but not so much that it was difficult to see, and Matthew couldn’t help but glance around every few moments. Other than that, he kept his gaze trained on the empty space on the cloth-covered table he was sitting at.

_Am I supposed to be saying something?_ he wondered nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. To his dismay, he didn’t have his hoody on. Alfred hadn’t allowed it and had actually forced the shy blond into a red and white plaid button-down shirt. It wasn’t that Matthew disliked the shirt—it looked good on him and he wanted to look nice for this—but he was nervous and wanted his hoody to at least feel a little less exposed.

“Do not be so nervous, _mon amour,_ ” Francis soothed from the other side of the table, his usual smile in place. “Eet ees only dinner, after all.”

Only dinner? Yeah, sure. If by “only dinner” the older boy meant “the first real date you’ve ever been on so don’t screw it up.” Matthew was terrified that he was going to screw this up and he was just as determined not to. As long as he didn’t say anything too stupid or spill his drink or drop food all over himself, then he would be fine.

“ _Matthieu._ ”

The sound of his name drew the Canadian’s gaze and he met Francis’ blue eyes. “Yes?”

“Please, relax. You really do not ‘ave to be so nervous.”

Matt smiled a little. “Sorry.” He knew Francis was right and that he didn’t have to be nervous about going on a date with someone he’d been dating for just over a week now. Though, in his head, he hadn’t been able to consider himself to be dating the older boy until now, when they actually went on a date. Though, he had been thinking of Francis as his boyfriend and he had to admit that it felt nice to know he had someone who cared about him as much as the elegant blond did. Having someone who wanted to hold his hand and cuddle with him and kiss his cheek, someone who he was comfortable doing those things with. It was nice.

“Do you know what you would like to order?” Francis asked, scanning his menu in search of something he might want to have for dinner. “Zhe shrimp parmesan sounds delicious.”

Blue-violet eyes wandered over the items on the menu until they found the shrimp parmesan and Matthew read through the short description underneath. “It does sound good. So does the prime cut, but I don’t think I could eat the whole thing.”

A smile curved Francis’ lips. “If you order zhe shrimp, I will get zhe cut, and we can share.”

“Sounds great.” They smiled at each other, Matthew’s nervousness quickly morphing into an excited jitteriness that made him want to bounce in his chair a little bit. But he resisted for the sake of not looking silly. He was on a date. A real date. He had a boyfriend for the first time in his life and he was on his first date with the guy he’d given his first kiss to. And the way Francis smiled at him made his stomach flutter a little and his cheeks heat up. The older boy was doing it right now, in fact, and Matthew looked at Francis through his bangs because he was too shy to keep his chin up. This was better than anything he’d thought he would get to experience in college.

_It’s almost perfect._

Almost. Why couldn’t it just be perfect? There was nothing wrong with his life right now. His mother was healthy and happy back home and couldn’t wait to see him come winter break in December. Alfred was the best big brother Matthew could ever have hoped for. He had made friends and was dating Francis, the most refined, cultured person he’d ever met. Everything was going along fantastically. So why couldn’t he just think that this was perfect? 

_You know why._

But he didn’t want to think about that. It was in the past. There was no reason to bring it up now and let it spoil his time with Francis. Really, he shouldn’t let those thoughts invade his mind at all anymore. Three times a week, though, there was little he could do about it, and then the random encounters on campus that were so uncomfortably tense it made Matthew want to burst.

_Maybe I should apologize for what I said. He wasn’t trying to insult me or Francis, he was just upset. If we could just talk, we could figure things out._

Could he bring himself to do that? To confront the one thing that kept him from being as happy as he knew he should be? Maybe. Maybe if he had a one hundred percent guarantee that it wouldn’t explode into another fight, that they would make up and be friends again. Maybe then he would have the courage to do it. Maybe.

_Not likely. Can’t even think his name to myself, much less say it out loud or pull it up in my phone._

It was like the name had become a taboo and Matthew was an expert at avoiding it. He hadn’t used the name at all in days and had no intentions to use it any time soon. Not if he could help it, at least.

“’ello, earzh to Matthieu,” Francis called softly, raising one slim eyebrow as he examined the younger boy’s face; Matthew blinked then flushed lightly to realize that he’d been spacing off in his own little world and almost forgotten about Francis completely.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About?”

Not something he wanted to discuss over dinner, especially during their first date. “Nothing important.”

“Are you sure?” the older boy questioned. He looked slightly concerned and reached across the table to place his hand over Matt’s. “You can tell me if somezhing ees bozhering you, _mon cher._ I ‘ope you know zhat.”

A smile made an appearance on Matthew’s face and he turned his hand to hold onto Francis’ slender fingers. “I know, and I will tell you if something’s wrong. I was just spacing out before. Promise.”

He didn’t like lying, but he really, really didn’t want to try to explain what was on his mind while having dinner with Francis. That was a conversation for another time, if it was a conversation that would ever happen at all. If he didn’t manage to figure it out for himself within the next few days, then he would ask for advice from the man sitting across from him. Otherwise, there was no reason to bring it up.

“If you are sure,” the blue-eyed blond conceded, though he didn’t let go of Matt’s hand. The younger of the two found comfort in the contact so he didn’t pull away, setting his menu aside and looking up as a waiter approached their table.

“Have you gentlemen decided what you would like to order this evening?” he asked with a polite tone and smile.

“ _Oui,_ ” Francis responded. “I will ‘ave zhe prime cut, and ‘e would like zhe shrimp parmesan.”

It was quiet as the waiter wrote down their order, then he smiled again. “I’ll have those out as soon as they’re ready. Do you need refills for your dinks?”

“No, we’re okay,” Matthew told him quietly because both of their cups were still a little over half full.

“All right. Enjoy your evening!”

Then he was gone and Matthew and Francis were left alone to enjoy the privacy of their small two-person table.

“So…what would you like to talk about?” the Canadian ventured, eyes fixed on his hand as Francis began playing with his fingers.

The older boy’s response was absent-minded. “Anyzhing. Whatever you want.”

To his surprise, Matthew felt goosebumps slowly spread up his arm then over his body as Francis continued to play with his hand. He gently turned it this way and that, stroking the soft skin on the back and the underside of his wrist, seeing how their fingers fit together so comfortably. It was an odd sensation to have so much attention put on his hand, but he liked it. The sensation wasn’t something he would ever have been able to describe but it was nice, for some reason. He easily could have sat there and let Francis do that for the entire night.

“That feels good.”

His soft admittance brought a smile to Francis’ features and the older boy lifted Matthew’s hand to his lips and softly kissed his knuckles then his fingertips. “I am glad you enjoy my attention.”

“ _Oui._ ” The word was less than a whisper and Matt looked up in time to see Francis looking at him as he continued his ministrations. “Francis.”

“ _Oui, mon cher?_ ” Hints of a smile floated around the corners of Francis’ mouth and he reached out to stroke the younger blond’s cheek without letting go of his hand.

As before, Matthew didn’t have the courage to voice his thoughts, so he silently leaned forward over the table and applied slight pressure to the Frenchman’s hand so that Francis mimicked him. When there was only about an inch left to go, Matthew let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes as both boys moved to close that gap. It was a gentle, chaste kiss, but then, they always were with Matthew. He had yet to be brave enough to go past the small kisses they shared, though Francis didn’t seem to mind and Matt was grateful for the older boy’s patience. His shyness could easily have annoyed the person he was currently kissing and holding hands with, but it didn’t. Francis’ only reaction to the Canadian’s shy tendencies was to coddle him and call him adorable. There would have been no point in denying that Matthew enjoyed those moments.

Slowly, he pulled away and offered a timid smile to the other male, flushing when a kiss was placed on his nose.

“ _Merci, Matthieu,_ ” Francis whispered, still so close that the younger blond felt warm breath caress his face.

“For what?” he asked softly, and the older boy gently rubbed their noses together for a moment.

“For agreeing to come out wizh me tonight, and to be my boyfriend. Eet means a lot to me.”

“Oh.” Matt smiled and returned the affectionate gesture. “ _Soyez le bienvenu,_ but I should be the one thanking you for comforting me and making sure I took care of myself.”

Blue eyes caught blue-violet and held as Francis let his forehead rest against the Canadian’s. “What else was I to do? You were wasting away before my very eyes, Matthieu. Eet ‘urt me to see you so upset. I am just glad that you are getting better. Your cheeks are filling out again, and you do not shake anymore.”

“I eat now.”

“ _Et_ zhat makes me very happy.”

They stayed that way for several long minutes, until the waiter returned with a tray bearing their meals. Only when he was trying to find a place to put the plates did they pull apart from one another, though they continued holding hands. Even as the waiter set their plates on the table and asked if there was anything else they needed, they maintained that contact.

Unfortunately, Francis needed his hand to eat, so they released their hold on each other and turned their attentions to their food, instead. But Matt could almost feel that soft hand as if it was still touching his own, and the sensation made him smile.

-

“Where are we going?”

Francis chuckled and reached over from the driver’s seat to take Matthew’s hand into his own. “I already told you, _mon cher,_ eet ees a surprise. You will see soon enough.”

Pouting slightly, Matthew turned to look out the window at the passing landscape, not that he could see much now that the sun had gone down. They were outside the city, he at least knew that; they’d left the lights behind over fifteen minutes ago, and now it seemed like Francis was driving them out to the middle of nowhere on some gravel road. Minutes passed by and each one made the Canadian more and more curious about what the older boy had planned. This whole trip was a complete surprise to him. The date was just supposed to be dinner, but Francis had revealed to have extra plans as they were leaving the restaurant, and he hadn’t given Matthew a chance to argue. So they’d gotten in the Frenchman’s car and driven out of the city to go…wherever it was that Francis was taking them.

“Please tell me?” the younger blond tried again, looking at Francis with wide blue-violet eyes, his expression and tone pleading. “Please, Francis?”

He received a raised eyebrow from the other male. “ _Ne. Ayez de la patience, mon beau Matthieu._ ”

As much as he didn’t want to wait patiently, Matthew sighed and dropped the puppy-eyed expression. There was little hope in getting anything out of Francis, especially since he was determined that this extra little trip be a surprise, so Matt resigned himself to staring out the window in hopes of recognizing something.

Without any warning, Francis began to slow then stopped on the side of the road.

“Where are we?” Matt asked, looking outside of the car curiously. He didn’t get an answer as the older male got out of the car then came around to open his door.

“Come here.”

Curious beyond belief, Matthew got out of the car and took Francis’ offered hand, allowing himself to be led to the front of the car. To his surprise, the Frenchman climbed onto the hood and sat so that he could lean back against the windshield; he patted the spot next to him and Matthew wasted no time in joining him. Settling comfortably with one of the Frenchman’s arms around his shoulders, Matt silently waited for an explanation.

“Zhey are beautiful, no?”

The words were spoken so softly that he would have missed them had he not himself so often spoken even more quietly than that. A glance revealed that Francis’ blue eyes were aimed upwards, so Matthew let his head lean back on the glass and gazed towards the sky—he gasped. The night sky was a blue so deep that in some places it was black, and it was completely covered in tiny glowing stars. It was nothing like the sky visible over campus. City lights kept it from ever being completely dark, but out here, in the middle of the countryside with no lights for miles, the sky opened up like an entirely new world.

It reminded Matthew of the sky he could see over his home in Canada, though the stars weren’t quite the same here as they were there. Still, it was a breathtaking sight and he immediately understood why Francis had bothered to drive so far away from the city.

“This is amazing,” he breathed, and felt Francis’ arm tighten around him slightly.

“ _Oui,_ eet ees.” Soft lips brushed against his cheek and Matthew looked over to find himself nose-to-nose with the Frenchman; he flushed lightly but didn’t look away. A few moments passed as the two blonds looked at each other, then Francis shifted onto his side and cupped Matthew’s cheek in his hand as he kissed the younger boy. Gently at first, then with a little more pressure as his tongue patiently sought entrance to the Canadian’s mouth.

“F-Francis…” His face was quickly turning red and Matthew hesitated, gently gripping the fabric of the taller boy’s jacket. Then he slowly, haltingly parted his lips far enough for that patient tongue to slip inside, and a moan escaped him before he could stop it. Grip tightening on the jacket, Matthew squeezed his eyes shut as Francis’ tongue explored his mouth. He timidly pushed back, unsure of what he was supposed to do, and felt the older blond smile against his lips.

“Follow my lead,” came the whispered order, and Matthew nodded before once more allowing entrance to the older boy. Patiently, Francis coaxed him into participating fully in the kiss, though he kept the pace slow so as not to rush the shy blond. Matthew was grateful for that, though he was so overwhelmed by the body pressing against his own and the mouth molding his to fit and the hand slipping under his shirt that he—

His breath hitched and Matthew froze, his eyes going wide. As soon as he tensed, Francis pulled away and looked at him in concern.

“Is somezhing wrong, _mon cher?_ ”

Matthew stared at the Frenchman, panting lightly after the kiss they’d just shared, body frozen. He could feel a warm palm and fingers splayed over his side and he didn’t know how he felt about it. The touches on his skin had been gentle enough that he hadn’t noticed right away, though now that he realized where Francis’ hand was, he felt vulnerable.

“I…um…” He broke the eye contact by looking down at where the older boy’s arm vanished under his shirt. “What’re you…?”

It took a moment for Francis to realize what the Canadian was talking about, though when he did, he carefully removed his hand and placed it instead on the younger boy’s hip. “I’m sorry, _Matthieu._ Was zhat too fast?”

The bespectacled blond opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out, so he closed it again and nodded slightly. “I wasn’t expecting it,” he admitted quietly, almost embarrassed, and Francis kissed his forehead reassuringly.

“Zhat ees my fault. I should ‘ave asked you if you were ready for zhat.”

Still red-faced, Matthew tucked his head under the taller blond’s chin and held close to him in search of comfort from Francis’ embrace.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, relaxing in the warmth that wrapped around him. “I just...I’ve never done this before, so I don’t know what to do or what to expect.”

A hand slowly rubbed up and down on his back. “ _Et_ I should ‘ave realized zhat and taken zhings slower. Do not be embarrassed, _mon amour._ I zhink you did wonderfully.”

Not sure if he believed that or not, Matthew paused to consider it. “Really?”

“Really,” Francis assured him with a small smile. “I enjoy kissing you, _Matthieu,_ but I zhink it would be best if we let zhat be enough for tonight.”

“Yeah, okay.” He didn’t say it, but Matthew was actually a little relieved that Francis had suggested they not try kissing like that again, at least not tonight. It had been a good kiss—he assumed so because he had no grounds for comparison—and it hadn’t been too fast or rough for him, but it on top of Francis reaching under his shirt had startled him and he wasn’t sure if he had the nerve to do it again right away. Besides, it would be nice to simply lie on the car’s hood and look up at the stars together.

So he wrapped his arms around Francis’ midsection and rested his cheek against the older boy’s chest as Francis held him close. The Frenchman’s heartbeat sounded strong behind his ribs, though it may have been beating a little faster than normal, and Matthew smiled to think he’d gotten Francis’ heart to speed up; he knew his was pounding like mad. And now he got to spend the rest of the evening stargazing with the elegant blond.

For a first date, he thought it went exceptionally well.


	17. Chapter 17

His head hurt. It felt like his skull was about to split right open, and Gilbert almost wanted it to. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

_I never should have quit smoking._

Quitting had to be one of the worst ideas he’d ever had. Headaches, shaking hands, chewed off fingernails and a temper he couldn’t even hope to control anymore. Nicotine withdrawal sucked ass and nothing he did seemed to help. Not exercise or painkillers or drinking extra water. Ice packs did nothing and neither did long showers. He was trying out the latest technique at the moment, standing in the white fiberglass shower stall as the water poured down on him. It plastered his white hair to his head, warmed his pale skin to a light pink on his cheeks, shoulders and chest. It felt nice, especially since his muscles were tired and a little sore from boxing practice earlier, but it wasn’t doing anything for his headache.

Maybe he should try something a little more unorthodox than regular pain-relievers. They obviously weren’t doing him any good.

Slowly, Gilbert’s gaze moved down until it landed on a part of his body he was immensely proud of. As a teen, he’d bragged about his “Five Meters” and while he knew that wasn’t the truth and that such a size would probably be painful and inconvenient, he’d never dropped the habit. Five Meters sounded impressive and he honestly couldn’t think of anything else to call it that didn’t make him sound like a prat or a douche.

His expression turned musing as he contemplated jacking off. It wouldn’t take long to rinse the shower out afterwards or to clean himself up, there was no one else in the bathroom for him to bother, and he hadn’t gotten laid in a while so he could probably use a good orgasm about now. Besides, it would definitely help his headache go away, at least for a little while if not for good. Nothing but two packs of cigarettes would get his headache to go away for good and Ludwig had named himself the enforcer of Gilbert’s attempt to quit so he knew he wasn’t going to get his hands on that source of nicotine any time soon.

Jacking off was starting to sound like a brilliant idea.

With a practiced air, the albino widened his stance and leaned his shoulders back against the shower wall, the fiberglass cold after the heat of the water. He gripped himself firmly and closed his eyes, trying to come up with something he could think about while doing this. The image of violet-blue eyes filled his mind, soft blond hair and pale skin. Slender fingers, a subtle elegance, that shy smile as glasses slipped down a nose.

Tears forming and spilling down flushed cheeks, lips parting as a voice cracked.

_Fuck!_

Frustration blurred the image and Gilbert opened his eyes to slam his fist against the shower wall.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, angry at himself and Matthew and at the world. “I can’t do zhis. I need a drink.”

There was no way he was going to be able to do this if the first thing he thought of was Matthew crying and upset. He was already clean anyway so Gilbert shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. The red towel he’d brought with him was rubbed over his skin until only his hair was still wet, and a quick pass over was enough for it to stop dripping. Then the towel was around his waist, his caddy and clothes were in his arms and he was headed back to his dorm, the wet slap of his sandals against the floor the only sound accompanying him. He was going to get dressed and go out to the nearest bar and have a drink for the first time in months. It was Halloween and damn it all he was going to have a good time even though he’d originally planned on relaxing in the dorm while Ludwig went out with Feliciano.

When he opened the door to his room, however, he was met with the sight of Ludwig at his desk with a hand over his face and obviously annoyed. Feliciano was there, too, busy pleading with someone Gilbert had never met before. At first glance he thought a second Feliciano had appeared but a double-take revealed the stranger to be darker in skin and hair color, and his curl grew the other way. Besides, he was scowling and Gilbert knew Feliciano was incapable of such an angry expression.

“Who is zhis?” he asked, gaze on his blond brother as he moved farther into the room. Walking into his dorm in a towel wasn’t his ideal way to meet someone but there was nothing he could do about it at this point so he might as well be as casual as he could.

Blue eyes peered at him from between fingers. “Feli’s brozher.”

“ _Ciao, Gilbert! This is _mio fratello,_ Lovino!” Even though he was smiling, Feliciano was clearly upset about something and Gilbert wasn’t sure if he wanted to get involved. A warning look from Ludwig was all it took for the albino to move towards the walk-in closet._

“Nice to meet you, Lovino. Excuse me.” He pulled the door shut and isolated himself via the closet in order to get dressed. This was definitely something he didn’t want to get dragged into, but he didn’t mind listening to the muffled voices coming through the door.

“ _Per favore, fratello,_ it’s not that bad.” That was definitely Feliciano.

“The bastard won’t leave me alone!” Lovino—more vulgar than his brother by far.

“He likes you!”

“Well I hate him but he’s too _stupido_ to figure it out!”

“But why do you hate him? What did he do?”

“The stupid tomato bastard hits on me like I’m some cute girl at a party!”

“ _Fratello,_ he likes you!”

“I knew you wouldn’t be on my side! Chigi! You’re so in love with your potato-sucking boyfriend that you don’t care about me anymore!”

Gilbert’s eyebrows went up to hear his brother called a “potato-sucking boyfriend.” Obviously, Lovino and Ludwig weren’t on good terms.

“Please, Lovino, that isn’t true. You’re _mio fratello_ and I love you more than anyone. I just don’t understand why you hate Antonio so much.”

 _Antonio? So Lovino’s zhe vone Antonio’s been pining after all zhis time. Und zhe bastard’s charms don’t vork on him._ The knowledge put a grin on his face. At least he wasn’t the only one having trouble with the object of his affections.

_Nein, don’t zhink about zhat._

Too late. Damn it, he’d ruined his own moment of happiness, as twisted as that happiness had been. Now he really needed that drink. Quickly, he finished dressing and stepped out of the closet. Ludwig was still sitting at his desk with his face hidden by his hand.

“Hey, Lud.”

The blond looked up, his expression clearly stating that he didn’t know how to deal with his boyfriend’s brother throwing a tantrum in their dorm room and that he wished it was over so he and Feliciano could go out on their date. He also looked like he didn’t want Gilbert to leave him there with the two Italians but that he knew there was little hope of his older brother trying to help him.

“I’m going out for a drink,” the albino announced to no one in particular, pulling his jacket on. He barely spared a glance back at the still-arguing brunets before the door closed behind him and he was off down the hall towards the elevator.

Tonight, he was going to get thoroughly hammered.

-

Six. There were six empty bottles in front of him on the counter—he hadn’t been letting the bartender clear them away so that he could keep track. So he was at six and not even drunk yet because it took at least eight bottles to get him drunk and even then he would still remember this in the morning. But Gilbert wasn’t drinking to remember. He was drinking to forget how messed up things were between him and Matt, how he couldn’t think about the blond without picturing those tears.

“Stupid,” the college student muttered as he peered into his seventh bottle to see how much was left. “Can’t even fucking get it up to jack off ‘cause of him.”

Vaguely, he was aware of a presence to his left as someone occupied the stool next to his own. “Because of who?” The thick accent betrayed the speaker’s identity and Gilbert turned red eyes on the man.

“Go avay, Ivan,” he growled, irritated that the Russian had chosen to speak to him.

_Ve’re not friends and he doesn’t like me, anyvay. Zhe last time he saw me, Matzhew yelled at me. Vhat zhe hell does he vant?_

“ _Нет,_ I wish to speak with you.” There was a patient smile on Ivan’s face, the same one as always.

“Vhy?”

“Because it is strange to see you out drinking like this. Something is wrong, _да?_ ”

Gilbert scowled and took a long drink, emptying his seventh bottle. “Vhat do you care?”

The larger male shrugged, his forearms resting on the bar top. “Should I not?”

“Zhere is no reason vhy you should.” Red eyes examined the empty bottle in disappointment; Ivan called to the bartender and ordered two drinks, though Gilbert didn’t pay much attention to what he said. “I don’t know vhy you vould vant to know, anyvay.”

“I can help, _да?_ Is that not what friends do?”

Confused, Gilbert looked up at the white-haired Russian and was momentarily awestruck by the deep violet of his eyes. “Um… _nein_ …ve’re not friends…”

The smile on Ivan’s face developed into a grin and he opened the two bottles brought to them by the bartender. He took a long drag on his, which Gilbert was quick to imitate, though his red eyes went wide and he choked the moment the alcohol hit his throat. It was difficult not to spit it out, and he forced himself to swallow it only to lean forward over the bar, gasping and coughing and trying not to vomit.

“Vhat zhe hell vas _zhat?_ ” he demanded as soon as he could breathe again, angry that Ivan had given him something so strong.

“Vodka. What else?”

They stared at each other, Gilbert annoyed that he hadn’t been given another beer but also not willing to back down to the challenge in Ivan’s eyes that the Prussian wasn’t capable of handling a liquor like vodka.

“…fine.” He took another drink, this time managing not to choke. Under Ivan’s gaze, he emptied the bottle as quickly as he could and soon felt the familiar alcohol buzz start up in his skull—he felt warm and relaxed and a satisfied smile found its way onto his face within minutes.

“You feel better now, _да?_ ”

“ _Ja,_ ” Gilbert replied, grinning. Seven bottles of beer and one bottle of vodka did wonders for one’s mood. “’s hot in here.”

Ivan took another drink of his own vodka. “Then take off your jacket.”

The casual suggestion had Gilbert immediately stripping out of the leather jacket he’d been wearing, revealing the loose sleeveless shirt he had on underneath. He could practically feel those violet eyes passing over his body and smirked at the male beside him. “Like vhat you see, vodka boy?”

“ _Да._ ” There was no hesitation whatsoever in Ivan’s response, and Gilbert’s smirk slipped because the Russian was staring at him, giving him bedroom eyes that made his already heated body feel even warmer.

“Hm. Vhatever.”

Ivan chuckled; another swallow of his vodka disappeared. “So, what is Gilbert so upset about?”

The Prussian shrugged, slumping over the bar because he no longer had the motivation to sit up straight. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me anyway.”

For a moment, Gilbert simply stared at the empty bottles around him, then he sighed and rested his cheek on his arm so he could look up at Ivan with slightly out-of-focus eyes. “He hates me.”

“Who?”

“Matzhew.”

Understanding lit the Russian’s face and he patted Gilbert’s shoulder comfortingly, though the touch only made Gilbert shift in his chair; Ivan’s hands were really warm. “Ah, I see. I am sorry, Gilbert.”

“ _Ja_ …me, too…”

“And that is why you are drinking?”

A nod was the only response he gave. He could almost still feel Ivan’s hand on his shoulder and a part of him wanted that touch to be real. After months, here was someone who could give him what he wanted, who wouldn’t mind that sometimes all Gilbert wanted was to be a little slutty.

“Ivan.” The name came out softly, little more that a low whisper.

“Hm?”

“Touch me.”

“What?” The taller male looked confused and Gilbert rolled his eyes.

“I said, fucking touch me, you Russian bastard.”

Slowly, a grin spread over Ivan’s face and he reached over to trail a finger down Gilbert’s arm. Goosebumps appeared on the pale flesh and Gilbert shifted in his chair once more as heat from that touch spread through his body. Now that he really looked at the Russian, it was hard to ignore that he was actually very good-looking, and Gilbert knew for a fact that the man was incredibly strong.

_Could bend me over, if he vanted. Have his vay vizh me._

The thought sent chills down his spine and he looked directly into Ivan’s eyes. “You got a car?”

“ _Да,_ it is parked in the alley.”

“ _Perfekt._ ” Without another word, Gilbert unsteadily picked himself up off the stool, dropped several bills on the counter to pay for his drinks, and began making his way towards the door. He was joined by Ivan a moment later, the Russian moving to steady him by putting an arm around his waist; he’d grabbed Gilbert’s coat, since the albino had forgotten it.

“ _Danke,_ ” he muttered as they exited the bar. The cold October air felt wonderful after how warm it had been inside the bar, especially since alcohol always made him feel that much warmer, and he took a deep breath to try and clear his head. Already, he felt more comfortable and less like he needed to start taking his clothes off just to avoid overheating. But it did little to cool the heat coming off of Ivan, and Gilbert soon found himself almost clinging to the larger male as he was led to the waiting car. Normally, he cared what car people drove. He’d always liked cars and there were some models that he considered more suitable for sex than he did others. But tonight he didn’t give a damn what sort of car Ivan drove, as long as there was plenty of room in the front seat.

Politely, the Russian unlocked and opened the door as Gilbert leaned against the car so he wouldn’t fall down. “Never had…vodka…before…”

Ivan grinned at the admittance. “You are handling it well.” Then he disappeared into the car, settling onto the front seat and using the controls to shift and lean it back so there was more space between his torso and the steering wheel.

The compliment on his drinking skills made the albino laugh and he kept one hand on the roof of the car as he stepped up to the open door. Smiling, Ivan looked up at him and patted his lap in invitation. There was a noticeable bulge in the larger male’s jeans and Gilbert couldn’t help the excitement that coursed through him at the sight. Moving clumsily but determinedly, he climbed onto the Russian’s lap, straddled him, then reached over to pull the car door shut, trapping them in the small, dark space. There was enough light to make out Ivan’s face, to see the shape of his shoulders, and Gilbert wasted no time in shifting forward so that their bodies were pressed together and their faces were only an inch apart.

“You are sure about this?” Ivan asked softly, his hands settling on the smaller male’s hips.

Gilbert smirked and licked his lips, hips rolling to put pressure on the hardness he could feel beneath him; Ivan’s breath caught in his throat before a throaty moan escaped him.

“ _Ja._ ”

And then he was kissing him, had his hands tangled in Ivan’s hair as his mouth crashed against the other student’s, tongues immediately meeting and battling for dominance. But Gilbert had had a great deal more to drink than Ivan and so quickly lost, not that he minded. He was too distracted by the hands tugging at his jeans, opening his belt and popping the button so that the denim fell loose enough for Ivan to pull them down and reveal the albino’s gray boxer-briefs. Those didn’t stay in place for long, instead quickly following the path his jeans had taken and leaving him bare to a hungry, violet-eyed gaze that almost seemed to devour him.

“Gilbert is big,” Ivan growled, one large hand moving to palm and rub between the albino’s legs. Moaning unabashedly, Gilbert gripped the front of his companion’s shirt and lifted himself to press against that hand, to increase the contact and the friction his body so desperately craved. “But I am bigger.”

“ _Gut._ Nng…fuck, Ivan…” He was panting, his whole body trembling as a mouth latched onto his neck, biting and sucking and tugging at the pale skin it found. And still the Russian’s hand rubbed, teasing and palming but never gripping and stroking like Gilbert wanted. “Ivan!”

“ _Да?_ ” The Russian’s tone was playful and Gilbert let out a warning growl.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he snapped, thrusting himself forward to press against the other man’s arousal. “I know you vant zhis just as much as I do.”

“Mm… _да_ …” He licked the mark he’d made on Gilbert’s neck, free hand making its way to his belt and fiddling around until Ivan’s pants were loose around his waist. Gilbert took the responsibility of lifting up onto his knees and yanking the fabric down, also making quick work of the boxers underneath. Ivan’s erection stood tall as soon as it was freed of the confines of clothing, and Gilbert’s body tingled at the thought that it would soon be buried inside him.

“You are bigger zhan me…good…” It took all of his concentration to move forward just enough that he could feel the head of Ivan’s length prodding at his entrance, and he took a deep breath in preparation for letting himself down.

“Wait.” Hands gripped his waist, stopping him, and he gave Ivan an irritated look.

“Vhat?” he demanded, impatient because _fuck_ he was horny and he needed this and damn it why did Ivan have to interrupt him? “Did you change your mind or somezhing?”

“ _Нет,_ but do you not want to be stretched? There is lube in the glove box.”

Damn it. He should say yes. Sex without lube or stretching or anything would hurt like a bitch and he’d be sore and cranky tomorrow if he declined the offer. It wasn’t something he was going to want to deal with but at the moment he really didn’t care.

“ _Nein._ ” 

“But—”

“I don’t vant it! Just shut up!”

Even though he looked offended at having been yelled at, Ivan didn’t argue and relaxed his hold on the smaller male. “Fine.”

Gilbert huffed before taking another deep breath, which hissed out from between his teeth as he slowly let himself down onto Ivan’s hardened length.

“ _Fuck._ ”

It hurt. It hurt more than he’d been expecting and he felt tears gather in his eyes before they dripped down his cheeks. He should have accepted the lube and just let Ivan stretch him, but it was a little late for that—he’d be sore regardless of what he did. So he settled for pressing his face into the Russian’s neck, for gripping his shirt so tightly that his knuckles ached as he just tried to breathe and relax his body so that this wouldn’t hurt so damn bad. Arms wrapped around him, encompassing him in warmth as he shuddered and trembled.

“Gilbert?”

“I’m f-fine.” Stubbornly, the albino pulled back out of the embrace, biting his lip, and experimentally shifted. At first, moving only hurt more and his breath hitched—he tasted blood from biting his lip too hard—but then Ivan moved with him and a shock of pleasure rushed to his stomach.

“Ohhh…d-do zhat again…”

The breathy request put a smile on Ivan’s lips and the Russian wasted no time in obliging. Sliding down on the seat a little, he began to lift his hips up and down as Gilbert rode him, the albino’s voice quickly sounding in moans and whimpering gasps.

He’d never had anyone as big as Ivan before. Previous partners were his size or a little bigger if they were dominant. Anyone smaller than himself was either rejected or Gilbert took charge. But Ivan was a new experience. The Russian was, by all standards, huge because he was a large person, and Gilbert vaguely thought that he might not be able to handle anything bigger than the man he was currently having sex with. He didn’t care anymore that it had hurt to be penetrated after going so long without sex, without lube or preparation. That pain was completely replaced by the waves of pleasure that washed over him every time Ivan’s hips went up, and he dug his nails into the larger male’s chest as he panted and groaned.

“F-fuck…Ivan…” It was difficult not to call the name at the top of his lungs, to demand that the Russian move faster, be rougher, bend him to his will and fuck him raw.

Somehow, though, it seemed that Ivan knew exactly what the albino wanted, because after only a few minutes of patiently moving together did he set his hands on Gilbert’s thighs and squeeze them as he bucked his hips up to push deeper into the smaller student’s body.

Gilbert’s eyes went wide and his back arched, his entire body going rigid at the sharp pain that was quickly followed by a more intense pleasure than before. “Ivan!”

“Gilbert is very tight…”

Panting, the albino struggled to adjust to the deeper penetration, to force his body to accept the faster movement as Ivan’s impatience began to get the better of him. “Ah…nng….m-more… _freuen_ …more!”

A breathless chuckle sounded next to his ear before a tongue and then teeth touched his neck. Ivan bit down on the same spot as before and Gilbert’s jaw went slack as a louder moan than before burst from him. It was impossible to keep his eyes open under the onslaught of sensations. The heat of Ivan’s body pressing against his own, hands squeezing and massaging his thighs as his body was stretched over and over again, the mouth on his neck that was sure to leave a hickey too big to hide. And then one of those hands abandoned his thigh in favor of stroking the neglected sex between his legs.

Gasping, Gilbert bucked his hips forward and immediately moaned. _Finally,_ Ivan had taken pity on him and within moments the albino was on the verge of his climax. His stomach was wound tight and he was sweating, breathing hard as if he’d just run a marathon and all the while lifting up and slamming himself back down onto Ivan’s erection with reckless abandon because he was _so close_ that he could practically taste it.

“You are close.”

Gilbert could only whimper as the hand on his most sensitive of body parts squeezed; the hips below him stilled and he held back a protesting whine at the sudden lack.

“Beg for it.”

The growled words made him shiver and frown at the same time. His pride refused to obey such a command and he quickly leaned away from the Russian. “N-no!”

Smirking, Ivan bucked up once so that Gilbert threw his head back and a cry tore from the albino’s throat at the sudden pleasure. “Beg, or I will not let you cum.”

“Hnnn….s-sadistic bastard,” Gilbert spat, red eyes glaring at the man he was straddling. Not a single part of him wanted to beg, not while he was in the more powerful position of the two and not drunk enough to be docile. He still had his dignity, after all. And yet, he knew that, if he gave in, it would only be a few more seconds before he would come undone, and the lure of that urged him to obey. There was something in Ivan’s eyes that clearly said he wouldn’t be bringing Gilbert any closer to his release unless he did as he was told.

_Damn him._

His chin tucking against his collarbone in a submissive display, Gilbert met Ivan’s gaze. “Please,” he whispered, hips shifting in a weak attempt to convince Ivan to move faster again, “let me cum. _Freuen._ ”

The Russian grinned and lifted a hand to stroke one of the albino’s cheeks. “Good boy.”

Immediately, Gilbert felt a burning sense of shame and embarrassment and his face turned red from something other than the exertion of sex. He’d given in and he hated Ivan for making him do it, but the next moment his hips were being held in place as Ivan roughly bucked up into him, ramming himself into the smaller male’s body as he squeezed and pumped Gilbert’s length. Just as he’d known would happen, he felt himself growing even closer to his release with each thrust.

“S-so close…Ivan…please…!”

The hand on him squeezed and dragged; a thumb rubbed over his tip and then Gilbert shuddered violently, calling out in a broken voice something that could have been English or German as his release crashed down on him. The world turned white and his entire body was tense as an overwhelming sense of pleasure blocked out everything else. Just as he was coming down from it, Gilbert felt Ivan give a final thrust and the Russian came as well, shooting his seed deep into Gilbert’s body.

“Nng…fuck,” the albino panted, limply letting his body rest against Ivan as he tried to catch his breath. The larger male’s chest heaved, his heart thundering loudly. It was several minutes before either of them regained enough strength to move, and then Gilbert carefully lifted himself until Ivan was no longer inside him. With trembling fingers, he managed to pull his boxer-briefs and jeans back up and closed them—the belt proved to be too much and he left it for now, instead reaching to open the door.

Arms wrapped around him. A face nuzzled into his sweaty neck. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” He was feeling much more sober now and since his sex drive had been satisfied the next thing Gilbert wanted was to go to sleep.

“ _Нет._ ” Ivan didn’t hesitate before pulling the seatbelt over the both of them and buckling it into place. Before Gilbert’s tired mind could figure out what was happening, the car had been started and Ivan was driving them towards campus.

“Are you taking me back to my dorm?” the albino questioned, red eyes looking out the window so he could keep track of where they were. Truthfully, he was so tired that he didn’t know if he’d have been able to walk all the way back to campus, anyway.

“No, to mine.”

That didn’t make sense. Why would Ivan want Gilbert in his dorm? They weren’t friends, hell they’d just had sex in Ivan’s car but that was no reason to suddenly invite the albino into his room. “Vhy?”

The smile Ivan gave him was borderline frightening. “I am not done with you yet.”

Nervous now, Gilbert swallowed thickly and tucked himself against Ivan’s body, enjoying the heat while he could. He was definitely going to be sore in the morning.


	18. Chapter 18

Lips pressing against his shoulder roused Gilbert from a deep sleep and he shifted, moaning at the pain that accompanied the movement. Fuck, his hips hurt, as did his ass, and it didn’t take him long to remember running into Ivan at the bar and then…

_Perfect. I had sex vizh Ivan._

How many times? Three? Four? It was hard to remember—after a while, the memories started to run together. But he remembered going to the larger male’s car and then back to campus, being half carried into an unfamiliar dorm hall and even less familiar room. If his memory was correct, he was in Ivan’s dorm room, halfway across campus from his own room, and probably in no shape to walk. That was his own fault, though, for refusing to accept preparation before fucking in a car for the first time since his mid teens.

“Ugh…my head…” And he had a hangover the size of Russia.

A chuckle sounded from behind him and the albino twisted slightly to find that the source of warmth he hadn’t fully noticed until now was Ivan himself, and that the male’s arms were securely wrapped around him.

“Good morning.” The greeting was accompanied by a smile and another kiss on his shoulder. “How did you sleep?”

What the hell was this? Ivan was being nice to him?

“…fine…” Gilbert answered uncertainly, wondering if the Russian meant to let go of him any time soon or if he was going to be trapped like that until further notice. Now that he was fully awake, he felt disgusted with himself for being such a slut the night before—Ivan hadn’t even flirted with him, and he’d completely offered himself up like a prime rib on a silver platter for no reason other than that he’d been drinking and unhappy.

“Good.” Without a pause, one of the arms loosened and Ivan’s hand slid down his stomach to his hip, rubbing slowly. “You are very good at sex,” he complimented, head shifting so he could lick at one of the many marks that littered Gilbert’s neck, shoulders and chest.

_Zhere’s a few on my back, too…damn…vhat vas I zhinking?_

Never in his life had Gilbert engaged in such…zealous…intercourse. But then, Ivan hadn’t given him much of a choice once they’d reached the larger man’s dorm. Still, Gilbert couldn’t remember complaining or even wanting to resist. 

“ _Danke,_ ” he muttered after a moment, not sure if he should actually be happy about being told he was good at sex by someone he didn’t actually like, though he didn’t exactly regret what he’d done. Mostly, he was just embarrassed and a little ashamed.

“ _Пожалуйста,_ ” the larger male whispered before his mouth latched onto the space where Gilbert’s neck met his shoulder and his hand moved from the albino’s hip to rub between his legs. Before he could stop himself, Gilbert moaned softly and arched into the friction. Unsurprisingly, it only took a couple of moments for his body to begin heating up and stiffening in a very specific area, though he knew he was way too tired to go again, and he didn’t want to, in any case.

“Hnn… _n-nein,_ ” he protested, pushing Ivan’s hand away and sitting up despite the pain it caused him—he had to bite his lip to hold back a whine.

Ivan sat up as well and kissed the smaller male’s back. “Why not? We are both hard and the sex we have is good.”

“Because I’m tired and not in zhe mood!” Gilbert snapped, shoving the other male away in a fit of anger and standing. Immediately, his knees buckled and he fell as pain shot through him and he let out a low groan. “F-fuck…”

It was silent for a moment, then the sound of Ivan getting up reached him and he watched the larger male walk past him out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine. Your clothes are by the desk. Leave whenever you are ready. I am going to shower.” Ivan’s tone was completely neutral as he spoke, and within moments he’d put on a pair of shorts, gathered his things and left Gilbert, still curled on the floor, by himself.

Several minutes passed before it occurred to Gilbert that he couldn’t just stay like that forever. Ivan would be back eventually, and he really didn’t want to have to deal with the Russian any more than he already had. Besides, he needed to get back to his own dorm and shower. Luckily, it was Saturday, so he didn’t have to worry about homework just yet, but there were more pressing matters to attend to.

How the hell was he supposed to get halfway across campus back to his dorm if he couldn’t even walk across a room?

Red eyes passed over the room’s contents without real interest until they landed on a pile of fabric he recognized to be his clothes from the night before. They were by the desk, as Ivan had said, and Gilbert ground his teeth together as he slowly half-crawled over to them. Roughly, he separated his jeans from the pile and found his phone in the front pocket. With trembling fingers, he hit speed-dial two and waited impatiently as the line rang.

One ring. Two. Three. Four—

“ _Hallo?_ ” the familiar voice of his brother sounded, soft and sleep-slurred.

“Ludvig,” Gilbert croaked, gripping the phone tighter than was necessary.

_“Gilbert! Vhere are you? Vhy didn’t you come back last night? Are you all right?”_ Ludwig sounded almost frantic now and Gilbert almost managed to smile at his brother’s concern.

“I’m…fuck, I don’t know. Ivan’s dorm. Do you know Ivan?”

_“Ja, I do, but vhy are you zhere?”_

It took him a moment to come up with an explanation for why he was where he was. “I did somezhing stupid, Lud. I can’t…just come get me, okay? Zhe door isn’t locked.”

_“I’ll be zhere as soon as I get dressed. Gilbert, vhat’s wrong? Vhat happened?”_

Gilbert sighed and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, still struggling to accept everything that had happened the night before. “Lud, please just get over here. I really can’t get back on my own. I promise I’ll explain later.”

Silence, then, _“Give me five minutes.”_

“Okay.”

The line went dead and Gilbert let out a shaky sigh as he shoved the phone back into his jeans pocket. Five minutes. He could wait that long. Hopefully, Ludwig would get there before Ivan was back from his shower.

Silent, the albino regarded his clothes and wondered if he could manage to get dressed on his own. It would definitely be better to not be ass naked when his little brother showed up to get him, so he pulled on his shirt and slowly rolled onto his back. The boxers and jeans were a lot trickier than his shirt had been, and he bit his lip so hard that it started bleeding, but he eventually managed to get them both all the way up and closed his belt before relaxing on the dorm floor, panting.

“Damn…” The pain was a dull throb now rather than just spikes caused by movement, and he dreaded the moment when he would have to stand and try to walk. Just lifting his hips to pull his boxers and jeans up over them had burned like hell. And how was he supposed to explain this to Ludwig? The blond German had zero knowledge of his older brother’s sexual escapades and Gilbert hadn’t wanted him to know. But this was going to require and explanation that wouldn’t let him keep it a secret.

A knock sounded at the door. “Gilbert? You in zhere?”

“ _Ja!_ ” the albino called back, and the door opened to reveal Ludwig, hurriedly dressed in sweat pants and a hoody with his shoes untied, standing in the doorway with an expression bordering on fearful.

Shutting the door behind him, Ludwig entered the dorm and knelt at his brother’s side. “Vhat happened to you last night, Gil?”

Gilbert forced a cocky grin. “Had a little too much to drink.”

“So you stayed vizh Ivan Braginski for zhe night? Vhy not just come back to zhe room?”

The albino shrugged this time. “I don’t know, Lud. I don’t really remember.”

Ludwig sighed then frowned. “Stop lying to me or I von’t help you get back to our room.”

Shit. “Uh…” What could he say? “Fine. I got drunk and had sex vizh him, all right? _Und_ I’m too sore to get up or valk so just fucking help me so I don’t have to see him vhen he gets back from zhe shower.”

Surprise widened clear blue eyes and Ludwig stared. “You…had sex vizh Ivan?”

“ _Ja,_ I did, now quit staring and help me up.”

His expression still one of disbelief, Ludwig grabbed hold of the albino and carefully helped Gilbert to his feet, steadying the slightly smaller male when he wobbled and paled. After they made sure Gilbert had his phone, wallet and keys and got his jacket onto him, they left Ivan’s dorm room and slowly made their way out of the hall. Luckily, they didn’t encounter the Russian, and neither brother spoke until they reached their own dorm hall and stepped into the elevator since there was no way Gilbert was going to be able to manage stairs.

“All right,” Ludwig grunted as he ever so gently lowered Gilbert onto his bed and helped the albino shift until he was comfortable. “Spill it. Tell me vhat happened last night. Drinking _und_ having sex isn’t like you.”

Gilbert couldn’t help but laugh a little self-mockingly. His little brother thought so much better of him than everyone else did. “ _Ja,_ it is. I used to do zhat sort of zhing all zhe time in high school and during my freshman year. I just got out of zhe habit until now.”

Muscular arms crossed over an equally muscular chest and Ludwig narrowed his eyes. “Zhen vhat made you do it last night?”

This wasn’t a conversation that Gilbert wanted to have, especially not while he couldn’t even get up by himself. But there was no way to avoid it—Ludwig was stubborn enough to keep pestering him for the rest of the day if he had to, so Gilbert sighed and closed his eyes.

“I was pissed, all right? My head hurts all zhe time cause I quit smoking and I tried to jerk off in zhe shower but I couldn’t because I’m still hung up on Matzhew, so I vent drinking and Ivan found me and I just…I don’t know.”

The mattress shifted as Ludwig sat and Gilbert winced to be disturbed even that small amount. “I didn’t know you liked Matzhew zhat much.”

Hadn’t he told his own brother about having such a serious crush on the Canadian? Apparently not, and the albino grinned weakly. “I did. I do. But he’s vizh Francis _und_ he hates me, _und_ I don’t know vhat to do about it.”

“Talk to him.”

“ _Nein,_ I vas angry zhe last time I tried _und_ only made it vorse. Now he’ll find out zhat I slept vizh Ivan because zhey’re friends, and he’ll zhink I’m zhe filzh zhat Francis told him I am. Zhere’s nozhing I can do to fix it after how badly I fucked it up.”

Both brothers sighed and Ludwig patted his brother’s shoulder. “ _Es tut mir leid,_ Gilbert.”

“ _Ich auch._ ”

x

It was quiet in Matthew and Alfred’s dorm despite Francis, Arthur, Antonio, and Yao being there. Ivan had yet to arrive, though they hadn’t seen him since the evening before last and he hadn’t answered his phone when they tried to get a hold of him. At the moment, Francis was lying on Matt’s bed with his head resting on the Canadian’s thigh as Matthew slowly ran his fingers threw the older blond’s hair to help ease his headache.

“ _Merci, Matthieu,_ ” the Frenchman mumbled, not for the first time, as he squinted against the light coming in through the window. Most of the students were suffering from light sensitivity, so they hadn’t turned on any of the lights in the room. Still, what little sun made it in was painful if they looked at it.

Matthew smiled gently. “It’s no problem.”

He and Yao were the only two not in pain or even uncomfortable, Matthew because he was the only person in the room who wasn’t old enough to drink and Yao because the Chinaman didn’t have much interest in alcohol. So while the others had drank to excess, Matthew and Yao had remained sober for the evening and now bore witness to the suffering of their friends.

In fact, Alfred had his head shoved under his pillow to block out the light and muffle any sounds. Beside him, Arthur was curled up fast asleep, his hair a mess and his clothes rumpled because they’d all passed out here around four in the morning and the Brit had yet to wake up. Antonio took up the foot of the bed, his tanned stomach showing because his shirt had gotten pushed up somehow, and he had a hand up to shield his eyes as he sipped at a glass of water.

The door opened and four pairs of eyes turned to see Ivan walking into the dorm.

“Dude, where ya been?”Alfred asked, the pillow still over his head as he twisted around to face Ivan; the four of them flinched when the door shut with a quiet slam and Arthur finally stirred, muttering and rubbing at his face as he sat up and looked around with bleary green eyes.

“…bloody…” he groaned when the headache hit him, and he instantly laid down again, shoving his face into Alfred’s chest, much to the American’s surprise, but no one commented on it.

Grinning and obviously not experiencing a hangover like his friends were, Ivan walked farther into the room and occupied the only other available seat—Matthew’s desk chair. “I did not mean to vanish or worry anyone, but I could not resist.” Out of courtesy, he spoke in low tones so as not to aggravate any headaches.

Alfred frowned. “Resist what?”

“I spotted our angry friend Gilbert in a bar last night and went to talk to him.”

The sound of the albino’s name made Matthew look up and he stared at Ivan, dying to ask him how Gilbert was but biting his tongue to keep from doing so. As far as the others knew, he was completely over the Prussian.

“He was drinking a lot,” Ivan continued, “and he is…not very happy, today.”

It was a vague answer that made everyone in the room sit up and look at the Russian, though no one looked happy about having to move.

“What the hell does that mean?” Arthur demanded, grumpier than normal.

Ivan leaned back in his chair and stretched, obviously pleased with himself. “I, how you say, ‘fucked him raw,’ last night.”

The dorm went deadly silent. Matthew couldn’t breathe.

No. No, no it couldn’t be true. Gilbert wouldn’t have sex with Ivan, he wouldn’t. He didn’t have casual sex any more, he’d said so himself. No way would he have sex with Ivan. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. And yet it felt like his heart, already so fragile and only recently mended, was slowly cracking and threatening to shatter at any moment if Ivan was telling the truth and really had picked Gilbert up in a bar and had sex with him.

“… _Matthieu?_ ”

Gentle hands touched his face and Matthew realized that he’d started crying.

“I-I’m sorry,” he apologized, wiping at his eyes in a futile attempt to rid himself of the tears that had so quickly formed and begun to fall. “I just…it…hurts to hear that….”

“Guys,” Alfred said quietly, gaze lowered as he refused to look at any of his friends, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

It was a clear dismissal, a way to tell them to get out without actually telling them to get out. One by one, the other people in the dorm picked themselves up and shuffled to the door, leaving with muttered farewells—Yao had to all but force Ivan since the Russian had only just gotten comfortable—and then Matthew and Alfred were alone in their room.

Without a word, Alfred got up and climbed into Matthew’s bed, settling beside his younger half-brother and putting an arm around the Canadian’s shoulder. Matthew was crying openly now, his face red as he curled into Alfred’s side. It was the first time he’d cried since Gilbert initially told him they weren’t friends anymore, and hearing that the albino had seemingly moved on so quickly hurt more than he could say.

“It’s okay, Mattie,” Alfred soothed, rubbing the younger blond’s arm and resting his cheek on the top of Matthew’s head. “It’s okay. I know it hurts, but it’s gonna be okay.” There was something in his tone that caught Matthew’s attention and he managed to open his eyes, hiccupping softly between sobs.

“Y-you’re upset, too,” he managed to force out, and Alfred sighed.

“Yeah. I don’t like knowing that one of the guys I like can go out and just… _do_ something like that,” the blue-eyed blond admitted softly. “I mean, the way he said it was awful, like he knew Gilbert would have trouble because of it and that makes Ivan happy. I dunno. It sounded really...cruel. I sorta can’t believe I actually had an interest in Ivan, now. Man, I’m an idiot for thinking I could date him.”

“I-I-I’m s-sorry, Al.”

They sat in near silence for a while as Matthew struggled to calm down and eventually reduced his crying to quiet sniffles and the occasional hiccup. When he got to that point, he sat up a little straighter and wiped his face on his sleeve.

“This sucks,” the Canadian mumbled. “Now Francis is gonna think I don’t like him as much as I like Gilbert, but I can’t help being upset by this…I thought Gilbert was better than that…”

“Maybe we were both wrong. I didn’t think Ivan was sadistic, and you didn’t know Gilbert was so,” he paused, searching for the right word, “promiscuous, I guess.”

“Maybe.” Matthew managed a smile and nudged his brother in the side. “Does this mean you’ll tell Arthur you like him? He was kind of cuddling with you this morning.”

Alfred’s cheeks turned a light pink. “Maybe,” he hedged, “but not while he’s still cranky from his hangover. Besides, the cuddling was subconscious. I doubt he knew what he was doing.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he did it,” the younger pointed out, and Alfred couldn’t help but smile a little, as well.

“Hey, I’m the big brother, I’m supposed to give you relationship advice, not the other way around.”

Matthew laughed a little at that and once more settled against Alfred’s side. It would be nice to spend a day with just the two of them, especially after being so emotionally rattled by Ivan’s announcement. A quiet day with his brother was probably the only thing that would make Matthew feel any better at this point, and he’d never been so glad to have Alfred to count on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ROUGH) TRANSLATIONS:  
> “Danke.”  
>  German: “Thank you.”  
> “Пожалуйста.”  
>  Russian: “You’re welcome.”  
>  “Es tut mir leid, Gilbert”  
>  German: “I’m sorry, Gilbert.”  
> “Ich auch.”  
>  German: “Me, too.”


	19. Chapter 19

It was a lot colder out than it had been a week ago. Nature had apparently realized it was now November and had adjusted itself accordingly, so the wind that tugged at Matthew and Alfred’s hats was biting cold and both boys were bundled up in preparation for the snow that lurked in the clouds overhead. The brothers were on their way to the cafeteria for lunch with plans to meet the others there, though Matt’s thoughts were far from food. Gilbert hadn’t been in class that morning and he was worried about the albino.

_He doesn’t care about school very much but he’s never just skipped. He must still be recovering from…his weekend._

Not since Ivan’s announcement Saturday morning had Matthew let himself think about it in those exact words. Doing so made him feel slightly nauseous, so he’d chosen to think of it as an illness that his ex-friend was recovering from. It was just easier that way.

“Mattie?”

“Hm?” The Canadian was too busy thinking about Gilbert to fully realize his brother had been talking to him.

“Dude, did you hear me?”

Oops. “No, sorry, I was…distracted. What did you say?” he asked, hoping Alfred hadn’t already repeated himself and that he wouldn’t ask what had so completely absorbed the younger boy’s attention. Even though he’d been acting as normal as possible these last few days, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep anything about his thoughts from his older half-brother. The blue-eyed blond was just too good at getting him to open up.

Alfred seemed embarrassed to have to repeat himself, “I said, I’m gonna ask Artie to go out with me this weekend.”

The news took Matthew by surprise but he smiled after only a moment. “Really? That’s great!” He couldn’t help but think his brother and the Englishman would be good together. If anything, Arthur’s manners might rub off on Alfred, and Al could get Arthur to relax a little. They would balance each other out.

“Yeah?” His expression was one of being deep in thought and Matthew watched him out of the corner of his eye. He’d never seen Alfred act like this, though he had only known the American since August. Strange to think they’d only met a week before school started, how close they were now despite the fact that they hardly interacted for the first two months of school.

Smiling encouragingly, Matthew nodded though the movement wasn’t all that noticeable due to his layers. “How are you going to ask him?”

Blue eyes widened behind glasses and Alfred stopped walking. “How…? Uh…shit. I don’t know. _Shit._ ” 

Unable to help himself, Matthew chuckled and nudged his brother’s arm to get him walking again. “Don’t look so panicked. It’s only Monday—you’ll come up with the perfect way to ask him by this weekend.”

“But I gotta ask him soon or he’ll say he’s busy! He plans everything ahead of time! If I do it last minute then he’ll blow me off!” He was clearly distressed and Matthew decided it proved how much Alfred liked Arthur. If it had been just a small crush, the American wouldn’t have had any trouble asking their British friend out on a date. There was no sign of his cool, confident persona. Alfred was flustered and nervous.

_We have more in common than I thought._

The longer he knew Alfred, it seemed, the more similar they became.

“All right.” The Canadian paused, watching the slightly icy sidewalk they were traversing so he wouldn’t slip. “We can think of something tonight. Maybe ask Francis? He’s good at this sort of thing.”

That seemed to strike a chord with the older of the two because he lost his panic-stricken expression and instead turned thoughtful. “Yeah…I bet he’d know the perfect way…but Artie can’t know ‘cause he thinks Francis is a pervert. If he finds out I asked him for advice, then he’ll think all I want is sex, and okay I wouldn’t mind, but shit, I don’t want to be friends-with-benefits or something dumb like that. No way would I use Artie—he’s too special.”

As cute as Matthew thought it was that his brother considered Arthur too special to be anything but in a serious relationship with, his focus was snagged by a different comment entirely. “Why does he think Francis is a pervert? Everyone seems to think that, but he isn’t perverted with me at all.”

It worried him a little to have heard from first Gilbert and now Alfred and by extension Arthur that his seemingly perfect boyfriend was supposedly a pervert. They’d been dating for over two weeks now and Francis hadn’t done a single thing to make him uncomfortable. Not on purpose, at least, and he always apologized the moment he thought he’d made Matthew uncomfortable. Why would anyone think the Frenchman was perverted?

“Oh,” Alfred actually paused in his walking and lowered his voice, “because he used to be a huge pervert. Back when he was still friends with Gilbert, them and Antonio would go partying practically every night. You should hear him and Toni talk about those parties—they were pretty crazy when they were younger. Remember that comment Gilbert made about Francis getting a girl pregnant?”

Matthew nodded, not liking where this seemed to be going at all.

“He wasn’t lying. Francis told us all about it. They’d gone out and he had way more to drink than usual, and this chick had been flirting with him all night, but they were both too gone to remember to use a condom, and she got pregnant. It wasn’t the first time Francis had a one-night-stand, but he’d never had to worry about being a dad before. From what he told us, he was gonna help her cause he might’ve been a perv and a flirt, but he’s not the sort to abandon his kid, you know?”

The younger blond nodded again even though he couldn’t quite believe his ears. Francis had a kid? Francis was a _father?_ And he hadn’t bothered to tell Matthew?

“So what happened?” he asked quietly, almost afraid to know because he wasn’t sure he could handle dating someone who had a kid with someone else, especially considering this was his first relationship. It was too complicated.

Alfred shrugged. “She vanished a few days after he found out she was pregnant, and he had no idea where she went. Apparently, he got a letter from her after about a week. She got an abortion and transferred schools.”

That brought Matthew up short and he stopped walking completely, staring at his older brother. “What did Francis do?”

The two brothers stared at each other for a long moment, then Alfred shook his head. “I shouldn’t tell you. It isn’t my business. You should ask Francis yourself.”

“Please, Alfred,” Matthew insisted, catching up to his brother again. The cafeteria was in sight—they’d be there in another couple of minutes. “I just want to know what happened.”

A sigh escaped the older brother. “Fine, but if Francis finds out you know, you better not tell him you heard it from me. Got it?”

Nodding, Matthew gently gripped his brother’s sleeve. Alfred looked at him for a moment before shaking his head and sighing again.

“Francis was, well, heartbroken. He was terrified of being a dad at first, of course. Any of us would be, especially under those circumstances. But once he got used to the idea of having a son or daughter to play with and raise, he was really excited. He’s always been really interested in falling in love and having a family, so when he found out that she’d got an abortion without even asking him, even after he said he wouldn’t abandon her or the kid, it kinda destroyed him. That’s why he doesn’t really party anymore, not like he used to do. He still drinks and he likes hanging out, but he knows his limit. I think getting wasted like that terrifies him—he doesn’t want it to happen again.”

Oh, no, poor Francis. “Is…is he okay now?” the younger student asked softly, thinking of the way Francis often stared out windows, that melancholy sigh that was always followed by such a bright, happy smile, how friendly he was to everyone. Was that what he was always thinking about?

“Yeah. But that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t hang out with Gilbert anymore. He sort of blames him for the whole thing, since Gilbert was the one always challenging him to drink more or whatever. I don’t blame him, either. They were best friends when this all happened so seeing Gilbert has to bring back bad memories.”

“Oh.” Matthew blinked, finally understanding the animosity between the two males. “ _Oh._ ”

Now it made sense, how Gilbert didn’t know why Francis and Antonio had stopped being his friends, why they’d both warned him about the other. Of course Gilbert didn’t want Matthew to become the next one-night-stand gone wrong, and naturally Francis worried that Gilbert would be a bad influence. But still, he thought they’d both changed since then. Gilbert didn’t drink at all during the time they spent together. He’d stood up for Matt against teachers and bullies—the Prussian was the best friend he’d ever had. And Francis drank, but not to the point where he lost control of himself, not to the point of pressuring Matt to do something he didn’t want to do.

“This is all so stupid,” the blond Canadian muttered. “They’re better people than they were then. They should just be friends again.”

Letting out a long sigh, Matthew lifted his chin and looked up at the snow-heavy clouds. The smell of ice and winter was strong, reminding him of home and making him smile just a little. Despite how bad he felt for Francis, he was kind of relieved that the man didn’t have a child. That would have been a little too much for Matthew to handle during his first relationship.

_I’ll ask him about it tonight, talk to him about Gilbert. Maybe I can fix this._

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned out of habit, though a moment later he wished he hadn’t looked. It was none other than the albino his thoughts had been so distracted by lately, sitting on a stone bench near the cafeteria. He wore a dark gray stocking cap pulled low over his ears, along with his usual coat, plus a scarf to protect him from the cold. His red eyes were aimed at the ground, shoulders hunched up a little as he leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees.

Oh, he was staring. Bad idea. Before he could look away, though, Gilbert glanced up and their eyes met; Matthew stopped walking and Alfred didn’t notice until he’d reached the doors to the cafeteria. Then he paused and looked back to see his little brother and Gilbert staring at each other.

“Matthew?” he called, grip tightening on the door handle. “Come on.”

p>But Matt ignored his brother and took a hesitant step towards Gilbert, forcing a weak smile to his lips to cover up how nervous he suddenly felt. “Hi, Gil,” he greeted the other male quietly, glad his hands were in his pockets because that meant he couldn’t fidget like he normally would.

There was surprise in the red eyes he’d missed more than he would admit and Gilbert slowly, painfully stood, wincing noticeably. Seeing it was upsetting—he was obviously still recovering from Ivan—and Matthew felt an urge to go to his old friend. He didn’t though, standing his ground as the albino took a slow couple of steps towards him.

“Uh, hey, Mattie,” came the soft response, as if Gilbert were unsure. He glanced towards Alfred, apparently checking that the American wasn’t about to deck him for daring to speak to his little brother. “How are you?”

“I’m all right.” The blond smiled a little more, glad that they were finally interacting without anger or bitterness or insults. “You?”

“I’ve been better,” the older admitted, and Matthew nodded.

“I, um, I heard you had a rough weekend.”

Oops, that was the wrong thing to say. His comment put a hurt look on Gilbert’s face and the albino looked away from him, clearly upset that Matthew knew what had happened. He felt bad for mentioning it, knew it wasn’t really any of his business, and opened his mouth to apologize.

“Ivan bragged, huh?” Gilbert spoke up before the Canadian could say anything, oblivious to the effect his accent was having on the younger male. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Knew zhat Russian vasn’t good news.” Unsurprisingly, Matthew nodded to confirm Gilbert’s suspicions about what he knew.

Really, he should have known better than to accept vodka from the man, then to go out to his car with him, back to his dorm with him. Sure, he’d enjoyed the sex, but damn he was still sore, and he looked back on the whole experience with nothing but self-disgust. He hadn’t gotten drunk like that in years, and yet this boy standing only a few feet away had inadvertently sent him spiraling out of control. Booze and sex weren’t going to help, and he should have known that.

Even know, he struggled to think of something to say. Matthew hadn’t said anything more and the silence between them was starting to feel uncomfortable. What could he say? He should apologize, take back the hurtful things he’d said to the blond. Ludwig had talked enough sense into him that he knew that, but his mouth refused to form the words.

_Just say it. It’s not zhat hard. “I’m sorry.” Zhat’s it. Matzhew vill understand. Say it._

Forcing himself was useless, though, because how could he hope to apologize face to face when he didn’t even have the nerve to send a text? How many times had he tried, opened a new message, addressed it to the Canadian he couldn’t get out of his head and typed out so many different ways of saying he was sorry only to save them all as drafts then delete them later? Too many. Yeah, he knew he should apologize. He was the one who’d started all of this, but doing it through text seemed too cowardly. Doing it in person was apparently too hard.

“Matt, I’m freezing my ass off. Come on,” Alfred called out again, louder this time, as he opened the door. His interruption made both Matthew and Gilbert look at him, and Matt shot the older boy an apologetic look.

“Gotta go,” he murmured, and the albino nodded.

“See you around, _kleiner Vogel,_ ” Gilbert responded, purposefully using that pet name he’d only dared say out loud a few times. It made him smile a little that Matthew paused at the foreign words, glancing back at him before he hurried to catch up to Alfred. He watched until the door shut, and the two brothers were out of sight before slowly moving back to the bench. Sitting down was a less-than-pleasant process that had him gritting his teeth, but he managed after a few moments, finally letting out a breath once he’d settled and the pain started to fade again.

Even though it hadn’t been a long interaction or even a real conversation, he was glad he’d managed to at least say hi to the Canadian. Maybe this meant things were going to get better. They could be friends again. Not that he wanted to spend time around Matthew and Francis as a couple, but…if the Frenchman was good to Matt, then Gilbert wouldn’t complain. He could put up with the priss for the sake of his _Vogel._

_Can’t believe I’m zhinking zhat…_

Shaking his head, the albino chuckled self-mockingly and glanced around to see if his brother was there yet. He’d been waiting for the tall blond for nearly ten minutes now, that wait pleasantly interrupted by Matthew. Feliciano was coming, too, which was probably why it was taking them so long to get there. The colder weather had made Ludwig even more protective of the little Italian than normal, since Feli was susceptible to the cold and that meant Ludwig refused to let him go outside without being properly bundled up. It would have been cute if it hadn’t meant that Gilbert had to wait in the cold for that much longer.

Vaguely, he thought that this would have been a time for a cigarette had he not quit. It was a nice feeling, knowing that he didn’t have to smoke just to avoid headaches and that he could take a deep breath without choking and coughing. He didn’t miss the acrid taste or smell of it, either. The winter air was actually nice now that it wasn’t filled with cigarette smoke.

“Gilbert! _Ciao!_ ” a familiar voice called, and the albino looked up to see his brother and Feliciano coming towards him. He smiled before realizing a third figure was trailing behind, one he quickly recognized as Feliciano’s brother Lovino, and groaned internally. The moody Italian had been hanging around them constantly since Gilbert had first met him, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Lovino acted as if he hated Ludwig with every fiber of his being and he didn’t seem to like Feliciano any better, yet he was always showing up and following along wherever they went.

“ _Hallo,_ ” he greeted once they’d reached him, standing once more with Ludwig’s help. “Took you long enough.”

“Ve had to go back for Feli’s scarf,” the younger of the two explained, glancing at his brunet boyfriend and smiling fondly. The Italian was indeed completely bundled up, only his eyes showing between a hat and a scarf that was wrapped around his face to protect it from the cold.

“Shut up and go inside,” Lovino interrupted before anyone else could respond, voice gruff behind his own scarf; clearly, he had the same reaction to the cold weather as his brother did, even though he acted too tough to show it. The other three males didn’t respond to his rude tone, choosing instead to simply go inside because it really was pretty cold out and their stomachs would be growling soon.

As they abandoned the cold in favor of the heated cafeteria, Gilbert found his thoughts wandering to Matthew again. Finally, he could think about something other than the blond crying and upset, or wishing he still had the friends from before. Now he could plan how to make friends with him again.

_I’m not messing it up zhis time._


	20. Chapter 20

They had the dorm to themselves, Matthew comfortably nestled into Francis’ side, head resting on the Frenchman’s chest. Francis was warm, had an arm around the younger blond’s waist to hold him close as they watched a movie on Al’s TV. A blanket covered their laps, keeping them warm while snow fell outside the window. It was a beautiful sight, but neither boy paid it much mind. Matthew was barely even watching the movie—he was too distracted by the hand on his hip, gently stroking against the fabric of his jeans.

The light touches put an odd feeling in his stomach, little flutters that made him want to squirm, simultaneously pull away and press closer to the man who didn’t seem to realize what he was doing. It was embarrassing to feel this way. He knew his cheeks were slowly turning pinker and would eventually be red, knew that Francis was bound to notice when that happened.

_What is this? Why does my stomach feel like it’s twisting and turning?_

He hadn’t felt anything like this since…since his dinner date with Francis that ended with them stargazing and kissing on the hood of Francis’ car. That had made his stomach feel odd, and before that, Gilbert had had this effect on him.

Oh. Blue-violet eyes widened at the realization and he glanced up to see if his boyfriend had noticed yet. It didn’t look like it, so he shifted and pressed just a little closer without it being too obvious. At least, he hoped it wasn’t obvious because he would be terribly embarrassed if Francis realized what was happening to the Canadian. Matthew was definitely too shy to admit that he was…turned on…by something as simple as Francis’s fingertips running against his hip. It wasn’t even skin-to-skin contact and it was getting to him.

“Are you warm enough, _cher?_ ” the older blond asked softly, turning kind blue eyes on Matthew and making him blush.

“Yes,” he replied softly, because in truth he was starting to feel a little too warm under that gaze and with the hand still caressing his hip the way it was. For once, he wasn’t sure if he was glad or annoyed that he was wearing his hoody, as always. It was good because it made him feel protected, like it didn’t matter how Francis made him feel because he could always hide in the red fabric until his body stopped acting so ridiculously and calmed down again. At the same time, though, he wondered if taking it off would help him cool off—it would expose more skin to the older blond, though, and Matt wasn’t sure what he’d do if those fingertips found their way to bare skin.

“ _Matthieu._ ” The hand slid up his side, making his skin tingle under his clothes—so much for his hoody protecting him—until it cupped his cheek; concern took over Francis’ expression. “You’re burning up. Are you all right?”

“ _O-oui,_ ” he managed to squeak, and then understanding replaced the concern. Francis smiled, his thumb stroking over one of Matthew’s red cheeks, cool against his heated flesh. It was quiet as they looked at each other for a few moments, before the older boy leaned down and pressed his lips against Matthew’s, patiently molding the Canadian’s mouth to fit his own.

“ _Si doux ..._ ”

The murmured words had Matthew pulling away as he looked down, his shyness getting the best of him. But Francis had other ideas, let his hand slip down to the younger blond’s hip again where it gripped firmly, guiding Matthew to sit up and shift over until he was nearly straddling Francis’ lap. This new position had his cheeks flaming red as lips pressed to his forehead; a gentle hand removed his glasses and set them off to the side.

“Let me see your pretty eyes, _Matthieu, s'il vous plait,_ ” came the whisper that had the Canadian lifting his chin to meet Francis’ gaze. As embarrassed as he was, he couldn’t manage to look away even as the hand on his hip began to stroke again, as it moved over to gently cup his backside. The quietest of squeaks escaped his throat at that and he blushed darker than he would have thought possible, but he didn’t protest or move away. He just kept looking at Francis because the man was smiling so patiently and affectionately that Matthew could barely feel nervous at all.

Gentle pressure was applied to his backside until their lips met again in a kiss that was soft for the first several moments. Soon, though, he felt breath against his lips and then Francis licked Matthew’s lip, drew the younger boy closer by the hold he still had on the Canadian’s rear. He rubbed and even squeezed a little, making Matthew’s neck feel warm under his collar—no one had ever touched him like this before, and he had to admit that it felt nice.

Besides, it wasn’t the first time Francis had kissed him like this, so he hesitated for only a moment before allowing entrance to him, felt the Frenchman patiently slip his tongue inside just like the night of their date. It was an odd feeling, this sort of kissing, but far from unpleasant. Francis was obviously skilled and while that made Matthew worry that he was inadequate, the Frenchman kept whispering his name and pulling him closer and guided him so patiently—he forgot his worries and lost himself in the scent of roses, let his eyes fall closed, relaxed against Francis’ chest as their quiet kissing continued.

“ _Matthieu…_ ” Sounding slightly out of breath, Francis pulled away from the kiss and ducked down to kiss at the younger boy’s pale throat, wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him close, still with his hand firmly placed on Matthew’s backside. His kisses made the Canadian tremble and he smiled before biting ever so gently on that spot just under the corner of the jaw, where no one would see a mark unless Matthew lifted his chin.

“Nn…F-Francis…” Matthew sounded even more breathless than the Frenchman did, but that was to be expected. He was the one receiving a hickey, after all, the first hickey he’d ever had, and Francis was excellent at what he was doing. The feel of teeth gently catching and tugging his skin made it impossible for Matt to close his mouth and yet he couldn’t quite manage to make a sound as a tongue massaged the spot between bites to keep it from getting tender. And having such sensitive skin being sucked on while Francis’ breath caressed the surrounding area…well, it wasn’t something he would mind feeling again.

Muffled yelling sounded in the hallway, but neither blond noticed, both too involved and focused on the other to really notice it as the sounds grew louder. When the door burst open, though, slamming against the wall, Matthew jumped and drew away, found that he’d somehow moved to fully straddle his boyfriend and that Francis’ hand had slipped up under the back of his shirt to trace up and down his spine. Luckily, he managed to get to his own spot on the futon before anyone noticed what he and Francis had been up to, and finally realized who had so noisily come into the dorm.

It was Alfred and Arthur, and between them was Antonio. The Spaniard looked distraught, as if every hope and dream he’d ever had all shattered in a single moment. He was being partially dragged and partially restrained by the two blonds holding onto him.

“ _Déjenme ir! Lo estrangularé! Voy a hacer que devolverá cada insulto!_ ” Antonio shouted, struggling with all his might against Alfred’s hold on his arms. Arthur had his arms wrapped tightly around his waist and was helping to force him down on Alfred’s bed; the American was quick to sit on the brunet’s back in order to hold him down. The yelling continued and Matthew covered his ears against the painful volume as Francis pulled him closer protectively.

“Antonio, calm down!” Alfred ordered, his tone harsher than Matthew had ever heard it. He’d settled firmly on the middle of Antonio’s back and was pinning the other male’s arms down as Antonio kicked and thrashed. Meanwhile, Arthur was attempting to still the brunet’s legs long enough to sit on them.

“Quit bloody kicking before you hurt someone!”

“ _¡No! Bajense de mí! Lo voy a despellejar vivo! Nunca he sido todo menos amable con él y él me llama un bastardo pervertido?! Le enseñaré a cerrar la boca, el poco pinchazo!_ ”

“Hey!” Lifting one hand, Alfred smacked the Spaniard over the head. “I know you’re upset, but talk in a language we can all understand! We can’t fix it if you won’t tell us what’s wrong!”

Antonio growled, glaring at Alfred over his shoulder. His green eyes were rimmed with red and if he hadn’t been so angry he would have looked to be on the verge of tears. And he continued to struggle, though Arthur eventually managed to pin down his legs and then they had him completely immobilized save for his hands, which kept fisting in the blankets, the knuckles gone white with the strength of the Spaniard’s grip.

“What’s going on?” Francis asked once the dorm room was quiet—heavy breathing came from the three across the room but at least Antonio had stopped yelling.

Panting from exertion, Arthur sat up as much as he could without freeing either of the Spaniard’s legs. “No idea. We found him chasing that kid around, yelling in Spanish. The kid looked terrified, so we grabbed him and brought him back here. He hasn’t said anything in English yet, just kept yelling.”

An amused expression took over the Frenchman’s face and he shifted forward to sit on the edge of the futon, fingers interlaced with his chin resting on them. “I take eet Lovino finally found your breaking point, zhen.”

Growling again, Antonio tried to shove himself up off the mattress but didn’t manage to shift the weight on his back enough. A few moments passed as he tried again and again, Alfred’s determined expression unchanging as he held down his angry friend. Eventually, he let out a huff and laid still, glaring at whatever he could see.

“Who’s Lovino?” Matthew whispered so only Francis could hear, and the Frenchman chuckled softly.

“Lovino ees a…spirited…little Italian whom Antonio ‘as been chasing for quite a while now. Our Spaniard ees _amoureuse, mais_ Lovino won’t give ‘im zhe time of day.” The explanation had the anger fading out of Antonio’s eyes and left him looking heartbroken.

“Little Lovi is _perfecto,_ ” the brunet mourned, green eyes closing as he relaxed his grip on the blankets; a shuddering sigh left him limp under Alfred and Arthur. “ _Yo lo amo, pero ... él me odia._ ”

“You were threatening to murder him _il ya un moment,_ ” Francis pointed out, and Antonio sighed again.

“ _Sí,_ but I would never hurt him. He is too _precioso._ ”

“And he’s finally figured out how to piss you off,” Alfred commented, deciding that the Spaniard had calmed down enough that he no longer needed to be pinned and moving to sit beside him on the bed as Arthur did the same. “So, what now?”

“Nothing.”

Four pairs of eyes turned on Antonio as the Spaniard ran a hand through his hair.

“What do you mean, nozhing?” Francis demanded. “You ‘ave been smitten wizh Lovino since you first set eyes on ‘im. You cannot give up so easily!”

Antonio actually managed to laugh at that, though the sound was bitter and a little self-derisive. “Easily? _Amigo,_ I have never tried so hard at anything as I have at wooing Lovino Vargas. Today, I lost my temper and so any chance I had at persuading him is gone.”

“What did he say to make you so angry?” Arthur spoke up, a little rumpled from the earlier struggle.

Sighing, Antonio sat up and rubbed his face. “It was _una estupidez._ ”

“But it pissed you off,” Alfred commented, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye.

“ _Si, si,_ but I shouldn’t have let it. He’s always rude, this time was no different.” Hanging his head, Antonio let his hands rest in his lap. “I’m used to him yelling at me, calling me a pervert and a bastard and an idiot. Those things don’t bother me—I’m sure he’s just shy and unwilling to believe that someone genuinely likes him. But, today, he called me a,” he paused, seeming to struggle with the word, “ _me llamó un violador._ ”

It was quiet in the dorm room for several moments. They could all figure out for themselves what “ _violador_ ” meant and from there understood why Antonio had gotten so upset. Anyone would be, especially someone as laid-back and friendly as the green-eyed Spaniard. Antonio wouldn’t hurt a fly, and especially not Lovino.

“You were right to be angry,” Arthur eventually said, his voice soft. “I would be.”

Alfred put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Me, too, but I still don’t think you should give up. If you really like him, then you’ll forgive him and prove to him that you’re not any of the things he’s called you. He’ll see that you’re worth giving a chance.”

While he spoke, his gaze drifted from Antonio to the blond beside him and Matthew couldn’t help but wonder if Alfred was partially talking to Arthur, hoping the Brit would take this advice when Al finally worked up the nerve to ask him out.

_Everyone’s having trouble. Antonio’s giving up on Lovino, Alfred doesn’t know how to ask Arthur. Even I…I don’t know if I’ll stay with Francis, now that Gilbert isn’t angry anymore…_

He felt guilty for thinking it, guiltier than he’d felt in a long time. Francis had been nothing but good to him, and he did like the Frenchman. It wouldn’t be fair to break up with him just because of his friendship with Gilbert, especially since he didn’t think he had a chance at dating the albino. To do so would be plain cruel and he would hate himself for hurting Francis that way. Besides, he still needed to talk to him about why he’d stopped being friends with Gilbert in the first place, and try to find a way for them to be friends again. He didn’t want his best friend and his boyfriend to hate each other.

_This is all so complicated._ It was a whine and he was glad it was only in his head—no way would he want anyone to hear him sounding like that. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel like things had been awful at the start of the year then been fantastic only to become worse than ever, and then had been great before suddenly collapsing in on itself. Things with Gilbert seemed like they were going to get better but he was worried what Francis would do when he found out, and he was worried about Antonio and Alfred winding up alone.

Overburdened by his thoughts, Matthew cuddled into Francis’ side and smiled when the Frenchman’s arm wrapped around him once more. A hand settled on his hip but didn’t stroke this time, not now that they weren’t alone. But there was something about it that made the Canadian think that Francis wouldn’t hesitate to start things again once they got a chance, and that didn’t bother him in the slightest. He was glad Francis was patient, was kind and caring and he would be lying if he didn’t say the older blond was beautiful. Beautiful blue eyes and a beautiful smile; everything he did was elegant and perfect.

What would he do if Francis couldn’t get over the feelings of distrust he had towards Gilbert? If he made friends with Gilbert again…of course, he’d want to invite the albino to spend time with Alfred and Francis and the others. He didn’t want to have friends who didn’t get along. That would be stressful—what if he ended up being caught in the middle, forced to choose between one or the other? If that happened, he’d always feel like he’d upset whoever he didn’t choose, even if he tried to switch back and forth as fairly and evenly as possible.

_I just want everyone to be happy. I hate all this worrying and fighting, hate not knowing what’s going to happen next. I’ve never had to deal with this before…_

“Are you all right, _cher?_ ” Francis asked softly, turning his head enough that his breath disturbed Matthew’s hair just slightly. “You’re quieter than normal.”

“ _Oui,_ ” the younger blond murmured, a smile making its way onto his lips as he met Francis’ gaze. “Just thinking.”

Francis returned the smile and brushed his lips against Matthew’s forehead. “ _Bon. Vous allez me dire si quelque chose ne va pas, non?_ ”

Trying to be confident and a little bold, Matthew reached up to kiss the older boy for a few moments, then nuzzled into Francis’ neck. It was then that he realized he still wasn’t wearing his glasses, but that fact didn’t bother him. The movie they’d been watching was long forgotten and all the excitement of Antonio being dragged in by Alfred and Arthur had left him ready for a short nap. Luckily, Francis was warm and comfortable and always willing to cuddle. “Of course.”

All he needed to do now was dredge up the nerve to tell Francis that he’d talked to Gilbert, to make friends with the albino again, help Alfred figure out how to ask Arthur out, and see if there was a way he could mend the distrust between the Frenchman and the Prussian.

_I can do this. No problem. Francis is patient—he’ll listen to me, and probably give Gilbert a chance if I ask him to. Especially if Gil and I become friends again. Right. This’ll be easy._

Well…maybe he’d help Alfred first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ROUGH) TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Déjame ir! Yo lo estrangulo! Voy a hacer lo llevara de vuelta cada insulto! Ese mocoso!  
> Spanish: Let me go! I'll strangle him! I'll make him take back every insult! That little brat!
> 
> ¡No! Bajense de mí! Lo voy a despellejar vivo! Nunca he sido todo menos amable con él y él me llama un bastardo pervertido?! Le enseñaré a cerrar la boca, el poco pinchazo!  
>  Spanish: No! Get off! I'll skin him alive! I've never been anything but kind to him and he calls me a perverted bastard?! I'll teach him to shut his mouth, the little prick!
> 
> Yo lo amo, pero ... él me odia.  
>  Spanish: I love him, but…he hates me.
> 
> Me llamó un violador  
>  Spanish: He called me a rapist.
> 
> Bon. Vous allez me dire si quelque chose ne va pas, non?  
>  French: Good. You will tell me if something is wrong, yes?


	21. Chapter 21

There had to be a way to do this. There had to be. Every problem had a solution, even this one. So what if he hadn’t managed to get up the nerve to talk to Francis last night? It was a conversation best left for when they were alone together, considering the sensitivity of the topic. They hadn’t gotten any more alone time last night after Alfred and Arthur dragging Antonio in, so he’d decided to put it off until later.

Now, as he was walking to his first class of the morning, he knew Alfred was asking Francis for advice on how to ask Arthur out on a date, knew his brother was more flustered and nervous than ever. The American had been jittery since the moment he woke up and it was both amusing and endearing. If Arthur said no, Matthew would be almost as disappointed as Alfred would.

_I’m sure he’ll say yes. There’s no reason not to. He and Alfred get along pretty well and they’d work together. I just hope Francis can give him some useful advice._

Of course, he had complete faith in the Frenchman. Francis had been perfectly sweet when he asked Matthew to be his boyfriend, and practically perfect about it when he asked to take the younger blond on their first date. He shouldn’t have any trouble at all with helping Alfred figure out how to ask Arthur.

_He’ll probably have asked by dinner tonight, and then the two of them will be embarrassed and shy and he’ll want to tell the whole campus but Arthur will want to keep it a secret._

It was going to be cute to watch things develop between his brother and their friend.

Hot air greeted him as he entered the building and he began breaking down his layers as he made his way to the classroom. This was his last class of the day and he was looking forward to heading back to the dorm when it was over, since he and the others were supposed to be studying together for the rest of the evening, taking a break for dinner and the occasional snack. He’d never studied with Alfred or Francis or any of the others before, so it would be interesting to see how focused the other students were. He, of course, was capable of immersing himself in his notes for hours without breaking focus, but he had the feeling Alfred didn’t have that ability. The American had too much energy for it.

With a sigh, the blond sank into his chair at the back of the room and shrugged out of his coat, draping it over the chair back. He had his books out a moment later then took the remaining minutes until class started to relax a bit and let his mind wander—there were perks to showing up a little early for lessons.

Maybe Gilbert would be feeling well enough to come today. Matt certainly hoped so, if only because he wanted the albino to recover and not because he thought they might actually talk. Though he wouldn’t mind that, and he let himself smile at the memories of how things used to be. They’d have walked to this class together only a few weeks ago, would have left together and gone to one of their dorms or to the library since it was too cold to spend time outside. He missed doing that.

_It’s okay, though, because now I’ll go back to my room and spend time with Francis, and Alfred will be back a little later. We’ll have fun like we always do and…maybe I’ll text him._

Yeah, he could do that. Definitely. There was no harm in a little text, but class would be starting in about a minute and he didn’t want to be busy on his phone when the professor came in and started class, not that he had a particularly large amount of respect for him. He was who Gilbert had stood up to the day they met after all, so Matthew wasn’t all that inclined to like the man. Still, he was here for class, so he left his phone in his hoody pocket and opened his notebook so that he’d be ready to take notes right away. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he watched the door in case the albino did show up.

Right on time, the professor arrived and shut the door behind himself then moved to the front of the room. Matthew held back a slightly disappointed sigh and turned his attention fully forward, though he couldn’t help but pick up on the sound of the door quietly being opened one last time, and he hardly dared to hope as he turned his head just slightly.

To his delight, he recognized the white hair and pale complexion of Gilbert as the tall male slipped along the wall and to his desk without the professor noticing. He sat just before the man turned around and hurriedly unpacked his things. It made Matthew’s smile grow because how could he ever forget that Gilbert had borrowed a pencil and some paper from him that day? The fact that Gilbert was prepared today made him happy.

He was definitely going to text the older student after class.

x

Shit, this was uncomfortable. It had been five days and he was still having trouble sitting down, though walking was mostly back to normal. This, though, cramming himself into these little desks, was the probably the worst thing.

_Should’ve fucking stayed in bed._

But he couldn’t afford to miss another class or he’d start losing grade points, and he really didn’t want to have to deal with that. He’d studied too hard and taken too many notes to let his GPA suffer just because he didn’t feel like putting up with some pain in his ass. It was his own fault, anyway, so he was forcing himself to endure it without complaint. That didn’t mean, though, that he wasn’t going to rant and rave in his head.

_God damn Russian. Probably bought me zhat vodka on purpose, knew it vould get to me. Und zhen he took me back to his room vizhout giving me a choice. Good sex, bad decision._

_Don’t blame him, it vas your fault. You asked him if he had a car. You refused preparation._

_I know._

_Idiot._

_I know!_

He already felt fucking terrible about it, and then he’d been rude to Ivan even though the Russian barely deserved that. But he felt he’d been taken advantage of and the fact that Ivan went and told Matthew only made it that much worse. And now the blond was sitting only a few desks away, focused on the professor as the lecture began. He could have sworn he saw the younger male smile as he walked in, but he wasn’t willing to put too much faith in that. Chances were, Matthew hadn’t even noticed him.

Why should he?

_Barely managed to say hi to him on Monday and haven’t seen him again until now. It’d be best if he just forgot about me. I’ll focus on school, graduate in a year und move far away, never bozher him again._

There was no determination even in his thoughts. He knew he’d be miserable if he actually went through with that plan and just imagining not having Matthew in his life anymore made him glance at the bespectacled blond. Matthew was biting his lip, looking back and forth between his notebook and the blackboard to make sure he was copying the notes correctly. It was such a familiar sight that Gilbert almost chuckled. He missed studying with the younger student, partly because no one had managed to get him to focus on his schoolwork before Matthew came along. Now, he felt genuine guilt if he so much as half-assed his assignments; he knew the Canadian expected better of him.

_Listen to you. You do your homevork so you von’t disappoint somevone who isn’t even your friend anymore._

Truth was, he was still hoping he could fix things. As much of an ass as he’d been, as harsh and angry and downright mean as his behavior towards the smaller male was, he couldn’t help but miss him and want to fix things. Especially after the way Matthew had yelled at him for insulting Francis. He didn’t like Francis and it did upset him that Matt had started dating him, but he had no right to complain about it. Still, his temper had gotten the best of him. Ludwig had forced him to admit that, forced him to come clean about how he felt about all of this.

Jealous.

Gilbert was a jealous bastard and he’d ruined the best friendship he’d ever had, which might have turned into the best relationship of his life. But he’d gotten jealous of Francis and lost his temper and now the only thing left for him to do was try to fix it. Fixing it, though, was much easier said than done. He could barely get up the nerve to look Matt in the eye, let alone talk to him and apologize.

For the last few weeks, he’d felt decidedly un-awesome and he was really starting to get tired of it.

x

All right, all right. He could do this. No big deal. Easy. Yeah.

Gripping his bag’s strap so tight his knuckles ached, Matthew kept his eyes on the back of Gilbert’s head as he and the other students filed out of the classroom at the end of the lecture. All he had to do was speed up a little, catch the older student’s arm or call his name. Easy. He should be able to do this without a problem.

_What if he shakes me off like last time?_

The possibility hurt. He didn’t want that to happen again, ever, but he couldn’t help but be nervous that Gilbert wouldn’t want to talk to him.

_It was fine on Monday. We were fine. He was nice. He called me his Vogel. It’s fine. Just talk to him._

A deep breath. Two. Three. His grip tightened. His heart was pounding almost painfully. God he couldn’t do this—

“Gilbert!” he blurted the name out, sounding more emotional than he would have liked, but the white-haired man stopped, turned, and smiled. Matthew’s heart fluttered.

“ _Ja?_ ”

Still nervous about this, Matthew approached the taller male and offered his own small smile. “I…uh…how are you?” he asked, falling into step beside his former friend as they let the flow of students carry them outside and towards their dorm hall.

“Vell enough, I suppose.” Red eyes glanced down at him. “You?”

“Good, I’m good.”

They smiled at each other, both a little uncertain, but hopeful.

“So, zhings are going vell vizh Francis?” The question was obviously strained, and Matthew wished he could show his appreciation that Gilbert had asked even though he knew the albino wasn’t pleased about the situation.

“ _Oui,_ they are. He’s great.” He paused, noting the less-than-pleased expression on Gilbert’s face at that. Another calming breath. “I miss you.”

It was quiet after he said it, the words sinking in for both of them. Matthew felt better for having said it, though he was still a little worried that his feelings wouldn’t be returned. Yes, he was dating Francis, was happy with him, but he still wanted Gilbert back in his life, even as just a friend.

_Say something. Don’t leave that hanging. Please, just say something. Even if you don’t miss me, too, say so._

Gilbert cleared his throat and Matthew couldn’t help but glance up at him, chewing on his lip to keep from blurting out something else and interrupting him.

“I…” he stopped, swallowed, tried again, “ _Ich vermisse dich auch._ ”

Even though he didn’t speak German and didn’t quite know what the albino had said, Matthew smiled. He knew Gilbert well enough to know the man had trouble expressing his feelings sometimes, especially soft emotions, and speaking in his native tongue made it easier for him. Odds were, Gilbert had just admitted to missing him, and that made him happy.

“So, would you like to come over some time? Watch a movie?” the smaller male asked hopefully.

“Vould your boyfriend be okay vizh zhat?”

Oh.

“Uh, yeah, probably.” He forced a smile. “He won’t mind me hanging out with my best friend.”

The albino’s eyebrows went up at that, and he looked down at Matthew in obvious surprise. “Best friend?”

Blushing a little now, Matt fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves and nodded. “Yeah.” Of course Gilbert was still his best friend. If he wanted to be, anyway. There would never be anyone who would take that place, even if the albino didn’t want the title for himself. No one would replace Gilbert.

“Didn’t realize I’d get zhat job back,” Gilbert admitted, a little flustered and definitely pleased.

“It’s yours if you want it.”

They had their hands in their pockets, elbows almost brushing. It was so similar to the way they’d walked together before, but now there were no gentle bumps or half accidental touches. They kept their distance, because Matthew had a boyfriend and Gilbert knew he was walking on eggshells.

“I’d like zhat,” Gilbert eventually said, voice quiet. It wasn’t lost on him that they were heading away from the dorms, but he didn’t say anything about it. He just followed Matthew all the way to the edge of campus until they reached the circle of stones and tall pine trees. Fond memories flooded his thoughts as they entered the ring, and he stopped to watch Matthew keep walking until he was standing in the middle of the space.

Smiling just slightly, the Canadian turned and pushed his elbows out in a sort of gesture. “I haven’t been here since before.”

“Me eizher.”

“Kinda miss it.” He turned again, then moved to sit on one of the rocks, shivering as the cold easily passed through the fabric of his jeans. Silent, Gilbert joined him, and this time Matt leaned on the taller boy just slightly. “This means we can be friends again, right?”

“ _Ja,_ if zhat’s okay vizh you.”

It was. It was definitely okay with him. “I’d like that.”

Gilbert smiled and resisted the familiar urge to wrap his arm around the blond, hold him close. The cold would make it especially nice, but he knew it wasn’t his place. Not anymore. “Me, too.” A sigh came out as a white puff in the frigid air. “I’m sorry, Mattie.”

“Me, too.”

The older of the two shook his head. “ _Nein,_ don’t apologize. You didn’t do anyzhing wrong. I overreacted. It vas my fault.”

“I yelled at you.” There was guilt in the Canadian’s tone as he remembered the day in the cafeteria, how he’d lost his temper. He rarely ever raised his voice, and never to defend himself. But hearing Francis be insulted like that, after the Frenchman had been so kind to him, he hadn’t been able to help it.

“ _Und_ I deserved it. I vas an ass, Mattie. Zhere’s no excuse for zhat, _und_ …I know you know about me _und_ Ivan…I vant you to know, it didn’t mean anyzhing. It vas stupid, shouldn’t have happened. I messed up."

“It’s not my business,” Matthew tried to assure him, “you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“ _Ja,_ I do.” Gilbert turned, looked down at him, eyes full of mixed emotions. “Because zhe reason I did it…I vas pissed, from nicotine vizhdrawal, _und_ I missed you…I really do like you, Matzhew, but I von’t interfere vizh your relationship vizh Francis. Zhat’s vhy I vent drinking zhat night, vhy I let Ivan take me back to his dorm. I vas looking for a distraction. Just vish I hadn’t sunk to zhat level.”

Hearing it made Matthew feel guilty even though he’d had nothing to do with Gilbert’s decision. Maybe if he’d gotten the nerve up to talk to him sooner, or if he hadn’t yelled at him in the cafeteria, or invited him out to pizza that night, none of this would have happened. They never would have fought, would have just kept being friends. But it was too late to do anything about it, and besides, they were going to be friends again.

That thought replaced the guilt with a light-headed happiness that made the Canadian sigh as he rested his head on Gilbert’s shoulder. “I’m glad we’re friends again.” A nod was the only response, and Matt let his gaze wander over the rocks and trees as he wondered what he should say next.

“Gil?”

“Hm?”

Hesitating, he bit his lip. “Would you have dated me? If we hadn’t fought?”

It was quiet for a few moments. “ _Ja._ I still vould.”

His stomach now doing odd little flips, Matt smiled sadly. “I wanted to…I still want to, but I’m happy with Francis. He’s great, and I won’t hurt him for no reason. I hope you’re okay with that.”

“Of course. He beat me to it, _und_ if I’m going to be upset at anyvone, it’s myself. If I vasn’t such a jerk, I’d have asked you out a long time ago. I’m glad you’re happy vizh Francis. As much I hate to say it— _und_ don’t ever tell him I did—he’s a decent boyfriend. I don’t zhink he’ll hurt you.”

Pleased, Matt nodded, then wondered if now was a good time to ask if Gilbert was willing to be friends with Francis again. There probably wasn’t much harm in bringing it up.

“I don’t think he will, either. But, you know, I really would like for my best friend and my boyfriend to get along.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes even as he grinned. “ _Ja, ja._ I’ll try to be nice to him, for you.”

“Thanks, Gil.”

Steeling his nerves, the albino glanced around to make sure there was no one watching, then placed a kiss on the top of Matthew’s head. “ _Gern geschehen, mein kleiner Vogel,_ ” he murmured into the blond locks, eyes falling closed as he breathed in the soft scent of maple syrup mixed with the winter air.

Matthew blushed but didn’t say anything. He knew Gilbert wasn’t looking for a response, and he knew neither of them would tell anyone about these quiet few moments. This would be their secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ROUGH) TRANSLATIONS:  
> Ich vermisse dich auch.  
> German: I miss you, too.  
> Gern geschehen, mein kleiner Vogel.  
> German: You’re welcome, my little bird.


	22. Chapter 22

The whole group had been perfectly rowdy before. He and Gilbert could hear them from down the hall.

“Doesn’t sound like zhings have changed much,” the albino had commented, and Matt had glanced back to see a slight smile on the older male’s face.

“Not really.”

When Matt walked into the dorm, he was met with a chorus of greetings. The moment Gilbert followed him through the door, his brother and friends fell silent.

Okay, this was really awkward right off the bat. Matthew had never experienced the legendary horror of taking a significant other home to meet his mother for the first time, but he was sure it was supposed to feel sort of like this. Part of him hoped not, though, because bringing his best friend over to hang out shouldn’t have been a very big deal. Except Alfred was staring at Gilbert as if he was just waiting for the albino to do something wrong, Ivan had completely dedicated himself to running his fingers through Yao’s hair—the Chinaman had fallen asleep leaning against him, surprisingly—and Matt couldn’t remember ever seeing Antonio look so uncomfortable before.

Matthew’s first concern though, was Francis. How would he react? Was this okay? But the older blond was motionless, blue eyes on Gilbert and giving away nothing.

“Matt?” Alfred eventually spoke up, his voice breaking the tension in a way that made it possible to breathe again.

“Yes?” He moved farther into the room and took his place beside Francis; an arm instantly draped around his shoulders.

“This mean you two made up?”

“Yes.”

“Everything’s good?”

He nodded.

“Well,” the bespectacled blond grinned, “how ya been, Gilbert?”

“Better.” Although he still looked a little nervous about this, the albino smiled.

“Good. Have a seat. Wanna play a videogame?”

A smile broke out over Gilbert’s features. “ _Ja._ ”

Just like that, conversation resumed. Alfred had accepted Gilbert’s presence and anyone who didn’t like it would have to leave. No one got up, though, and a space was cleared for him as Gilbert moved farther into the room. He began a versus match with Alfred on one of the American’s many games as the others went back to their own activities, and Matthew watched the two males with a small, content smile.

Alfred was being nice to Gilbert. They were friends again, and his brother had accepted the albino without hesitation. It was better than Matt had been expecting or could have wished for.

A gentle touch on his cheek drew his attention to the Frenchman beside him and he smiled to realize Francis was nuzzling his cheek.

“ _Oui?_ ” he asked softly, turning to look at the older male.

“Eez everyzhing all right?” Francis asked so softly no one else would have been able to hear him except for Matthew.

“Of course.” Was he acting like something was wrong? No, he was sure that wasn’t it. He was happy—Gilbert was his friend again and everything was going to be fine. Why would Francis think something was wrong?

“ _Bon._ ” There was still something in those blue eyes that worried Matt, but Francis didn’t say anything else as he pulled the younger blond a little closer and rested his head on Matt’s shoulder.

He wanted to ask if something was wrong, wanted to make sure Francis knew that things between them wouldn’t change. It was possible no one would have noticed—they were all so invested in each other—but Matt still hesitated. Talking about their relationship in front of everyone else didn’t seem like a very good idea.

_It can wait. I’ll ask him later._

For now, he wanted to enjoy the fact that Gilbert and Alfred were smack-talking each other while they played. The two had never gotten close but they hadn’t really disliked each other, either. Seeing them play videogames and joke and curse at each other put a smile on Matthew’s face. His brother and his best friend were getting along perfectly.

“Shit! You came outta nowhere!” Alfred rapidly clicked through to respawn his character after Gilbert managed to kill him.

“Used to play zhese games vizh _mein bruder._ ”

“Ludwig?”

“ _Ja._ ”

“I’ve met him a few times. Seems cool.”

Gilbert merely nodded, his red eyes glued to the TV as the match continued. The look on his face was one of pure concentration; it wouldn’t have surprised Matthew if the older boy’s tongue had poked out.

Watching them was amusing, and Matt couldn’t help but wonder how things would be different if they hadn’t fought.

_We might have joined the group, or dated._

Oh, boy. Dating. That made him feel a little light-headed. Not even the warmth at his side and the weight on his shoulder kept him grounded as his imagination ran away with him.

Dates. Holding hands, cuddling and flirting and…kissing.

Yeah. Kissing.

Oh, no, his jaw was starting to ache.

_Think about something else._

But what else was there? Francis seemed to be dozing against him and everyone else was busy with each other. Except Arthur, of course, who was watching the videogame with a look of dull boredom.

_I wonder if Al asked him out yet._

Probably not. The blue-eyed blond wasn’t acting any differently than normal, and neither was Arthur. Both blonds would definitely have been behaving differently if Al had asked.

His curiosity about when his brother was going to ask, Matthew dug his cell phone out of his coat pocket and typed out a quick message as Francis watched over his shoulder.

_< < Ask him yet?_

Francis chuckled and Matthew turned his head just far enough to kiss the older boy’s nose. Light blue eyes looked up at him, happy, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“ _Je’taime._ ” It was whispered, and full of affection, but Matthew froze. His mind scrambled, tried to make sense of that uttered phrase.

_Does…he mean that? Already?_

Oh, god. What was he supposed to say? There was the obvious answer, but…he wasn’t sure he _loved_ Francis. He liked him. A lot. Francis made him feel warm and put butterflies in his stomach and made him happy. But love? He didn’t want to say it if he didn’t mean it, and it was way too early in their relationship for him to know if that was how he felt.

Fighting to keep from blurting out his confusion, Matthew merely smiled a little more and placed a kiss to Francis’ forehead. That seemed to be enough for the Frenchman, because he hummed and looked away again, snuggling just that much closer to Matt. Crisis averted for now, but it was almost definitely going to come up again later.

Did Francis really love him?

Before Matthew could really start questioning the Frenchman’s statement, the sound of a phone going off caught his attention.

“That’s mine.” Alfred paused his game in favor of checking his phone. He didn’t glance at Matt or give any visible reaction at all to it; Matthew couldn’t even be sure if that was his text or someone else’s.

It only took the older blond a few moments to type out his reply, then he was back at his game as if there had been no interruption. Matt was still wondering if that had been his text or someone else’s, though he didn’t have to wait long before his phone started buzzing and lit up to that he had a new message from “Big Bro Al,” as the American had named himself the day he added his number to Matt’s contact list.

A few simple clicks opened the message for him and Francis to see.

_> > Not yet. After this match._

_< < Good luck!_

Alfred didn’t bother pausing the game when his phone went off again. The match was too close to ending for him to get distracted now.

“No way are you beating me, demon!”

Being called a demon didn’t faze Gilbert in the slightest, and despite Alfred’s claim, he managed to defeat the blond by nearly ten points.

“Aw, go to hell,” Alfred laughed, grinning even though he’d lost.

“Rematch?” Gilbert suggested, casual but almost hopeful. Clearly, he was enjoying human interaction outside his brother and Feliciano and Lovino.

“Naw.” Arms above his head as he stretched—which lifted his t-shirt enough to show off a set of abs—Alfred stood and turned. “I’m hungry. Anybody else want McDonald’s?”

Francis immediately made a sound of disgust.

“ _Non, merci._ ”

The only response Alfred gave him was to roll his eyes. “Anyone else?”

“I don’t want to get up,” Antonio began, “but I’d take a twenty-piece nugget with that new Habanero sauce.”

“Okay, if I go, who wants what? You lazy idiots are paying me back, by the way.”

“Nuggets.” Antonio was firm.

Ivan looked up from running his fingers through Yao’s hair long enough to consider it. He’d barely said a word since Gilbert’s arrival, probably to keep from upsetting anyone, especially Matthew and Yao. “A large number six.”

“Chocolate shake.” Requests from Yao were always simple, if he even had one—most of the time he was too polite.

“I’ll have a Double Quarter Pounder vizh Cheeze,” Gilbert spoke up from where he still sat in front of the TV.

Alfred looked around the room. “Mattie? Artie?”

“Don’t call me that,” Arthur immediately objected. “And I don’t know what I want. I’d have to see the menu.”

“Then I guess you’re coming with me.” The taller blond was grinning as he said it.

_He’s going to ask while they’re gone. Did he know it would work out like this?_

“Mattie?”

Drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of his name, Matthew blinked and looked up at his brother’s expectant smile. “What?”

“D’you want anything?”

“Oh. Um, just a parfait, please.”

“Got it. We’ll be back!” Grabbing Arthur’s hand before the Brit had a chance to protest, Alfred slipped on his shoes, snatched up his coat and was out the door with a sputtering Arthur trying to keep up.“Slow down, you g—”

The door closed, cutting off the green-eyed blond’s insult, though they could hear him scolding Alfred for several more moments before the two were out of earshot.

“We won’t be seeing zhem for a while,” Francis commented with the tiniest knowing smirk, one that drew curious looks from most of the room’s other inhabitants.

“ _¿Qué?_ ”

A tap to the side of his nose and a wink were Francis’ only reaction. It made Antonio roll his eyes, but the Spaniard was too used to his friend’s antics to be more than slightly annoyed, and no one else said anything. They all knew Francis would give away his secret until he wanted to—there was little use trying to get anything out of him.

So no one spoke and the dorm grew uncomfortably quiet.

“Antonio,” Matthew eventually said, catching the brunet’s attention, “how are things going with Lovino?”

Even though his eyes lit up at the sound of the Italian’s name, Antonio’s shoulders sagged after a moment and he sighed forlornly. “I barely see him. He’s avoiding me.”

“No kidding,” Gilbert snorted, earning the attention of everyone else; Antonio looked particularly surprised.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded, taking offense at the albino’s tone, but Gilbert raised his hands in surrender.

“He’s practically living vizh me _und mein bruder_ because Ludvig’s dating Lovino’s _bruder,_ Feliciano,” he explained, lowering his hands when Antonio’s frown faded. “It’s annoying.”

“Oh, _yo la comprendo._ No wonder—he knows I never go there.”

“You could,” Matthew dared to suggest; Antonio and Gilbert gave him questioning looks, almost daring him to say it. “Uh, I mean,” his voice grew even softer as he talked, “if you become friends again…”

Silence filled the dorm again and Matt couldn’t help it. He pulled his feet up onto the futon with his knees to his chest, yanked his hood over his head and buried his face in his arms so no one could see him. Idiot, idiot, idiot! What had he been thinking? Way too early to suggest that! _He_ ’d only made up with Gilbert an hour ago! Of course Antonio and Francis would take much longer to work out their problems with the albino.

_You are painfully awkward, Matthew Williams._

Why wasn’t Alfred back yet? He should be back. Picking up McDonald’s didn’t need to take this long and neither did asking Arthur out. If he’d been here, he’d have agreed with Matt. Right? Yeah. And then Antonio would have grudgingly agreed to try, for the sake of winning Lovino over if not for reconciling with Gilbert. But the American wasn’t here and Matthew wished he could disappear into the futon if he tried hard enough but it looked like he was going to have to deal with the uncomfortable atmosphere he’d just blunderingly created.

_I am never getting into other people’s business again._

“ _Matthieu,_ ” Francis’ voice murmured just next to his ear, slightly muffled by the fabric of his hoody, “eet’s all right, _cher._ Don’t be embarrassed. Eet was a good suggestion.”

_No it was not a good suggestion don’t bother lying to me. That was dumb and why don’t I think before I open my mouth?_

“Oh, come now, eet wasn’t zhat bad. Zhere’s no reason to be embarrassed.”

“Antonio can come over if he vants,” Gilbert added, and Matthew peeked out from under his hood in time to see the Prussian and Spaniard exchange wary glances. “I’d razher have Lovino vizh him zhan in my room all zhe time.”

The sound of the Italian’s name put a thoughtful expression on Antonio’s face, and he nodded slowly. “ _Si_ …I…will give it a try. If Gilbert will.”

With a shrug, the albino set down the controller he’d still been holding. “Sure.”

“Zhen eet’s settled.” Francis was smiling as he looked between the other two students. It was strained, but it was a smile, and Matthew was grateful for his help. Now that his tactless suggestion had been smoothed over, he relaxed and put his hood back again, leaning against the older blond in a grateful way.

“ _Merci,_ ” he whispered when an arm slipped around his waist, and Francis nuzzled into his hair.

“ _Ne le mentionnez pas,_ ” the older student murmured back.

It was quiet again, but not uncomfortable like before.

“They’re taking a while,” Antonio eventually commented as he lay back on Alfred’s bed and stretched; his back popped quietly.

“ _Да,_ ” Ivan agreed. He was still running his fingers through Yao’s hair, and the Chinaman was dozing with his head resting on the larger male’s shoulder.

More silence.

“What’s everyone doing for Christmas break?” Matthew asked for the sake of conversation, though he was curious considering how only Alfred seemed to genuinely live in the country. Would everyone else fly home?

“International students can stay on campus,” Francis explained, “zhough I will be flying home, to France.”

Matt nodded. “I’m going home, too.”

“Aw, dude, I thought you were coming home with me!” Alfred’s voice filled the dorm as he walked in, arms full of a few large McDonald’s bags as Arthur followed behind him with a drink carrier. The Brit’s eyes were downcast, his cheeks tinged pink and he was holding his arms closer to his body than was normal. By contrast, Alfred had left his jacket unzipped and his hair was windblown; he looked like the embodiment of victory. Barely pausing to kick off his shoes, he began passing out food.

“Large number six! Shit ton o’nuggets! Cho-co-late shake! Parfait,” he handed it to Matt with a slight flourish. “And a double quarter pounder for the demon.” Gilbert laughed a little. “Come ‘ere, Artie!” Alfred plonked himself on the edge of his desk and patted the spot next to him, wide grin aimed at Arthur.

To everyone’s surprise, Arthur didn’t object to the nickname and rather meekly obeyed the taller blond, moving to perch lightly on the desk beside Alfred. An arm was immediately slung around his shoulders and Alfred handed him his food—a boxed Big Mac, medium fries and a cup of sweet tea—then placed an unexpectedly tender kiss to the Brit’s temple.

“Shove off,” Arthur grumbled, face turning a deep shade of red as he glared at his food. “Not in front of everyone.”

Rolling his eyes, Alfred settled his arm more firmly around the smaller blond and used his free hand to take his food out of the bag. “So, Mattie, like I said, I thought you were gonna come home with me.”

“My mom wants me to come home,” he admitted, halfway through mixing the granola packet into his yogurt and fruit.

“Right, right. But you’re gonna spend some of summer with us, right? I mean, you gotta get to know Dad’n stuff. Mom’s great, too—she’d love you.”

How did Matthew explain that he didn’t have much interest in getting to know his and Alfred’s father, and that he definitely didn’t want to try to meet the wife of the man his mother had unknowingly had an affair with? Staying with them for a week at the end of the summer had been bad enough, and he’d barely seen the two adults during that time. Their dad had been friendly enough; he’d barely been introduced to Alfred’s mom.

“Uh…maybe,” he hedged, and that was enough for Al because the American grinned then went back to pouring his attention onto Arthur, embarrassing and flustering the Brit until he was a blushing, mumbling ball of accent.

Crisis averted for now, Matthew let out a relieved sigh and relaxed further against the futon, though at this point he was leaning more against Francis, and went back to mixing his parfait. That conversation would come up eventually, but hopefully not until March or April. For now, he was content knowing that Alfred was a good big brother and that his mother was happy with her life. He’d have to get to know his father eventually, to say thank you for financing his college, if nothing else, but not yet. Not yet.


	23. Chapter 23

It was quiet in Gilbert and Ludwig’s dorm, mostly because Gilbert was there by himself. This close to the end of the semester, boxing practice had been suspended until after winter break, so he had a lot of free time now. Of course, he and Ludwig had taken to working out together since sports were unavailable, but he still had more time for himself than his blond brother did.

So he was lying on his bed with his phone in his hands while Gilbird perched on top of his head. The little yellow creature was content in his nest of messy white hair, occasionally letting out a quiet little peep, and only shifted and shuffled if Gilbert happened to move too much.

Quiet, the albino tapped his fingers against the edges of his phone as he thought. He had a test tomorrow, the last one in that class before the final. November was going fast and only the first two weeks of December would be taken up by school. Less than a month. Barely over three weeks, and from experience, Gilbert knew those three weeks would go by much too fast. First, though, he needed to get past this history test. He’d been taking good notes for most of the semester, but studying on his own was hard. He got distracted, he lost interest, he procrastinated. He knew he needed another person there with him if he was going to accomplish anything.

The question was, did he wait for Ludwig to get back and study with him, or did he invite Matthew? They had the same test, after all, so it would make sense for them to study together the way they used to. But they hadn’t spent time together alone since becoming friends again. It wasn’t something they’d talked about, but neither of them had made any move to see the other outside of class unless there would be other people around. Since Matt roomed with Alfred and almost always had friends around, it hadn’t been a problem. Gilbert was slowly rebuilding his friendships with Francis and Antonio. Mostly Antonio, but no one expected him to get close to Francis.

Sighing, Gilbert looked up as if that would allow him to see the bird on his head. “Vhat do you zhink, Gilbird? Do you vant to see Matzhew?”

Gilbird chirped softly and Gilbert decided to take that as a yes. Steadying his grip on his phone, the albino opened a new message and addressed it to the blond Canadian.

_< <Want to study for history?_

He wasn’t worried that Matt wouldn’t reply—the younger student was much too polite to ignore him—but he did think there was a good chance that his offer would be turned down. If that happened, then he’d just wait for Ludwig to get back and it wouldn’t be a big deal, but he did want to see Matt without all the noise and distractions of Alfred’s friends.

_Zzz…zzz…_

A little amused because it seemed that Matt was still just as quick about replying to texts now as before, Gilbert clicked the message open.

_> >Sure, your room?_

_< < Ja, if that’s all right._

_> >Be there in five._

_< <Kay_

Matthew was coming over. They were going to spend time alone together for the first time in weeks, and Gilbert was more excited about it than he should have been. It was just Matt, his best friend, coming over to study for a test. There was no reason for him to be excited or for Francis to get mad—no one said it, but they all knew the older blond was wary of Gilbert being around Matthew.

“Matt’s coming over, Gilbird,” the albino said quietly, looking up again. Gilbird peeped. He knew his pet didn’t really understand, but he also thought Gilbird would be happy to see Matt. The Canadian had been pretty fond of him, and Gilbird loved anyone who petted him and called him handsome the way Matt had. Chances were, Matthew would make it all of two steps into the dorm before Gilbird claimed his head or shoulder to rest on.

He should probably get his history book and notes out so he’d be ready when Matt got there, but he didn’t want to disturb Gilbird, and he was really comfortable. Getting up seemed like so much effort. Ugh. Really, he could see his books on his desk barely five feet away. It shouldn’t seem like such a struggle to move from his bed to his desk to the futon, and yet he found himself staring at his books as if by force of will alone he could move them to his bed.

“Gil?” Matthew’s voice sounded from outside the door, accompanied by a quiet knock.

Wow, had he really been staring at his books that long?

“Come in!” Now suddenly worried that he would look unattractively lazy, Gilbert quickly sat up—dislodging Gilbird and making him whistle in annoyance as he fluttered to the desk chair—and straightened his clothes. The door opened just as he was flattening his hair, and Matthew came in.

“Hey.” The blond smiled, chin tucked towards his collarbone so that he could peer over his glasses. After being outside in the cold, the heat of the building was making them fog up, and Gilbert had the immediate thought that this Canadian was the cutest thing on the planet.

“ _Hallo._ ” He grinned and stood, his first instinct to hug the shorter male, though he stopped himself before he could make a move to do so. That would probably have been a bit awkward. Hugs might not be welcome at this point. Luckily, Gilbird interrupted and filled the absence of a hug with a series of loud chirps as he abandoned the chair in favor of Matthew’s shoulder.

“Hey, Gilbird,” the Canadian murmured as a feathered head nuzzled at his cheek. “Missed you, too, buddy.”

Careful not to disturb his tiny passenger, Matt slid his bag off his shoulder and took off the white hat he’d been wearing—the ball on top wobbled a little as he pulled off his gloves and tucked them into his coat pockets. “Futon?”

“ _Ja._ ” As casual as he could, Gilbert crossed the room to pick up his books while Matthew kicked off his snowy boots. They met at the futon and sat next to each other, both a little shy and cautious about this; Matthew shrugged out of his coat and let it drape over the futon, slowly enough that Gilbird could climb onto his shoulder and settle down to sleep in the warm space provided by Matthew’s neck and hair.

“No plans vizh zhe guys tonight?”

Shaking his head, the blond took his history book and notes out of his bag and placed them carefully on his lap. “It was just me and Al. We decided that today was a homework day, and Alfred gets distracted too easily to have everyone else around. Kind of like you.” He smiled, his tone slightly teasing towards the end, and Gilbert fought back a grin.

“ _Ja, ja,_ vhatever. Vhere do you vant to start?”

“I think the study guide says,” Matt replied absently as he flipped through his book in search of the stapled packet. It was neatly folded and tucked between two pages and only took him a moment to find, and he presented it to Gilbert with a slight flourish. As much as they both disliked their history professor, the man was generous when it came to study guides. The questions were specific and space was provided for them to write the answers so that once the guide was filled out, it would be easy to go over as many times as a student needed.

“Fill it out and quiz each other?”

“ _Ja._ ”

Such was their usual study method, because it involved copying the information down the way Matthew liked to study, and the verbal corrections and reminders would help Gilbert memorize the information. In near silence, both boys turned to the right page in their books and began looking for the answer to the first question. The first five or so questions were simple, easy to find definitions and dates, but after that they had to summarize important historical events and figures, and after that there were sample essay questions. History exams were always at least fifty questions, true or false, multiple choice, short answer, and one or two essays, depending. The professor didn’t like to give them time to procrastinate and dawdle, though they were allowed to stay late to finish if they needed to. Hopefully, this study session would mean that neither Gilbert nor Matthew had to stay over the allotted class time.

“Glad ve only have vone more of zhese.”

“No kidding. Are you registered for spring classes yet?”

“ _Nein,_ I vas going to see my advisor tomorrow.”

“Same.”

It was quiet, meaningless chatter, but it was better than the sort of awkward silence Gilbert had feared might happen.

“Finished.” Matthew closed his book and set it aside, pencil held in his teeth.

“Vone left.”

Just as he was penciling the last answer, the door opened and Ludwig appeared, two familiar forms following just behind him.

“Hi, Ludwig,” Matt greeted cheerfully, “hey, Feli.”

“Matthew! _Ciao!_ ” the happy Italian smiled widely to see Matthew sitting on the futon, and ran across the room in order to hug the blond. “Matthew, this is _mio fratello,_ Lovino!” he introduced the other brunet, gesturing at Lovino. He’d already claimed Gilbert’s desk chair and was digging through his backpack, so he barely glanced up to acknowledge that he was being talked about. “Lovino, this is Gilbert’s friend, Matthew.”

“ _Ciao._ ”

“Hi.” With a smile that was a little uncertain, Matt looked at Gilbert out of the corner of his eye and met the albino’s gaze. There was something in the set of the older boy’s jaw and the way he was holding his mouth that made it clear this was the Lovino that had been driving Antonio crazy since what the Spaniard acted like was the beginning of time itself.

Without a word, the two went back to their study guides. Gilbert finished out the last problem then closed his book so he could use it as a table on his lap. Matthew had been busy scribbling on a sheet of notebook paper, which he ripped out of the notebook and passed to Gilbert. Curious and amused, the albino took the paper and examined what his friend had written there.

_“We should do something.”_

It was an obvious referral to the situation going on between Lovino and Antonio, and Gilbert knew the Spaniard wanted his help in wooing the surly Italian sitting just across the room, but he didn’t know what he was expected to do. Lovino had a temper and a vulgar vocabulary. He wouldn’t listen to his own brother about Antonio, so why should he listen to Gilbert?

_“I don’t know what we_ can _do. He’s stubborn and won’t listen to us.”_

_“We could trick him.”_

_“Mattie, so manipulative.”_

_“Jerk._

Here he’d skipped a line.

_“I meant we could set things up to give Antonio a chance without Lovino knowing what we’re doing. We’re smart, and the others would help. We could pull it off.”_

_“And what makes you think Antonio will put any chance we give him to good use?”_

_“Do you really think he’d miss an opportunity to win Lovino over? You’ve heard him pining. He’s miserable. Any chance would be a gift from God.”_

_“Fine, I’ll help you come up with something after break. Can we study now? I can’t fail this test.”_

He passed the note back Matthew’s way and picked up his study guide. “Let’s go zhrough it a few times zhen quiz each ozher.”

“All right.” Folding the note, Matt slipped it into his bag and started reading through his study guide. He made sure to commit each answer to memory, and had read through the guide nearly three times before Gilbert finally set his down.

“Quiz me.” Gilbert turned and wiggled his way along the futon until he could lie back, one knee leaning against the futon’s back and his other leg hanging off the side with his foot on the floor. His hands were tucked under his head so that it was tilted just enough that he could look at Matthew without having to strain his eyes or neck.

“Causes of the French Revolution.”

“Monarchy _und_ zhe Enlightenment, bankruptcy, _und_ …?” he trailed off and glanced at Matthew.

“The social and legal systems.”

“Got it.”

“Why?”

“Uh…monarchy vas divine right, vich vas rejected by zhe Enlightenment. Bankruptcy because some bastard got into too many vars and built up zhe national debt.”

“And the social and legal systems?”

Gilbert paused as he thought, trying to remember what he’d written on his study guide. “…taxes?”

“Yes,” Matthew’s tone implied that he needed more of an answer.

“Nobles _und_ churches had privileges, so zhe commoners had to pay more, _ja?_ ”

“Correct.”

Enjoying his small victory, Gilbert grinned and nudged his foot against Matthew’s thigh. The Canadian scowled at him, though a smile fought to lift the corners of his mouth, and he pushed at Gilbert’s knee playfully.

In this manner, the pair made their way through the study guide over and over until Gilbert could answer every question. He snatched up his guide at some points to double check himself, and between questions would nudge at Matthew or swing his leg up onto the blond’s lap only to have Matthew smack his thigh and push him off. Once Gilbert was confident in his knowledge of France and England, Napoleon Bonaparte and his wars, and the Industrial Revolution, it was his turn to quiz Matthew, who, of course, easily answered each question because he’d been memorizing them while quizzing Gilbert.

“I’ll think we’ll be fine.” Matthew’s tone was light as he tucked his things back into his bag.

Gilbert sat up on his elbows. “You’re leaving already?”

“It’s almost ten, and Al wants to talk to me about something.”

“Is somezhing wrong?” There was obvious concern in the albino’s question.

“No, it’s probably about Arthur. They aren’t going steady yet and I think Alfred might start panicking soon.” After transitioning Gilbird to the back of the futon, the blond stood and picked up his coat, shrugged it on, then put on his hat; it made his hair puff out funny around his ears. “He’s probably just desperate for advice since Francis and I are his idea of a successful couple.” Too late, he saw the flash of regret on Gilbert’s face and both males looked away from each other.

_Good going, Matt._

He hadn’t meant to hurt Gilbert’s feelings, but he didn’t want to have to act ashamed of his relationship with Francis, either. Balancing his time between his friends would have been bad enough without the rivalry between his boyfriend and best friend.

“I’ll valk you back.” Gilbert stood and moved to get his coat.

“You don’t have to.”

“I vant to.”

Too meek to argue, Matt waited in silence as Gilbert got his coat and hat and boots.

“Be back in a bit,” the albino said to no one in particular ad he and Matt left the room. They were quiet all the way to the lobby and out into the cold.

“So, zhings are going vell vizh Francis?”

“Yes. He’s very considerate.” Why did he sound so formal? He didn’t want to sound formal. He was talking to his best friend—he should sound relaxed and happy. “I mean, I’m happy. He’s great. I don’t know what I’d have done without him.”

Gilbert squirmed at the uncomfortable knowledge that it was his fault the person he liked was dating someone he all but hated. “Zhat’s good. I’m glad he makes you happy.”

_No, you aren’t. Don’t lie to me._

He couldn’t say that. It would be cruel to force Gilbert to admit his feelings now, especially since they’d already talked about this. They were friends again and Matthew was going to stay with Francis because he was happy with the Frenchman. There could be no good outcome from making the boy beside him admit how he really felt about it. He knew Gilbert was unhappy. Of course he was. Matt wasn’t thrilled with it either, but this was how things were. Francis didn’t deserve to be hurt. Gilbert had missed his chance. And Matt, well, Matt just didn’t want anyone to fight anymore.

This was getting really uncomfortable, and he couldn’t even turn the subject away from himself because the only thing he could think to ask was if Gilbert liked anyone but he already knew the answer to that question and it was exactly the opposite of what he wanted to talk about. All his life he’d been avoiding conflicts and now he was standing on the edge of a very tall, very steep, very dangerous cliff and even a tiny stumble could send him tumbling over. He could anger Gilbert or hurt Francis, he could confuse himself, he could accidentally force his friends to take sides or get everyone angry and against him without wanting or meaning to. Caution was essential if he was going to last until semester break.

Relief flooded the blond when they turned the last corner and began down the short stretch of sidewalk to Matthew’s dorm hall. Since it was so late, the doors would be locked, and he busied himself with digging his keys out of his coat pocket as they got closer and closer. He’d hoped to have them out and ready so he could go inside before any other awkward conversation could take place, but one of his keys was caught in the lining of his pocket and refused to come free.

“Having trouble?”

For a moment, Matthew continued to struggle with the key but gave up when he realized his gloves were making it nearly impossible to get a good enough grip. “Yeah.”

“Let me.” Bending down slightly, Gilbert managed to free the metal teeth of the key from Matthew’s coat and presented it to him with a grin. “Zhere you go.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The uncomfortable silence returned for a moment before Gilbert sighed gruffly.

“Come here.” Without waiting for a response, he pulled Matthew into a hug and held him tightly, arms locked around the Canadian’s middle. “ _Ich vermisse dich. Ich möchte die Dinge wieder normal. Ich weiß, dass ich durcheinander, und es tut mir leid. Wenn Francis dich glücklich macht, werde ich nicht stören. Nur, bitte, mich nicht hassen weil sie eifersüchtig auf ihn._ ”

Matthew didn’t understand a word of the muttered German, but when Gilbert’s voice nearly cracked towards the end, he couldn’t help but hug the taller male just as tightly as Gilbert was hugging him.

“ _Je t’aime,_ ” he whispered before pulling away. A small, sad smile was all he offered before letting himself into the dorm hall and leaving Gilbert to walk back to his own room by himself. Alone, Matthew hurried up to his room, removing his hat and gloves as he waited for the elevator to carry him up to the right floor, his feet tapping nervously.

He’d just told Gilbert that he loved him. Part of him knew he shouldn’t have and he knew he should feel like an idiot for saying it, but it hadn’t been a lie and he couldn’t bring himself to regret the words.

Finally, the elevator stopped and he started down the hall towards his room, mouth already open when he started turning the door handle.

“Alfred, I—” He stopped, taken off guard by the sight of two blonds in the room, two pairs of totally different blue eyes looking at him. “Francis. I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“I missed you.” Francis smiled warmly and got up to hug the Canadian, then kissed him briefly. “I was just going to drop by to say ‘ello, but you weren’t ‘ere, _et_ Alfred _et moi_ started talking. We must ‘ave lost track of time.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the advice, Francis,” Alfred spoke up, having yet to move from his desk chair.

“ _Soyez le bienvenu,_ ” Francis ducked his head and smiled at the blond American before looking back to Matthew. “’ow was studying?”

“Fine. Gilbert and I should pass without a problem.”

“Good.” A kiss was placed on the younger boy’s forehead. “I would stay, but it’s getting late. I’ll see you tomorrow, _oui?_ ”

Matthew forced a smile and kissed the man who cared for him so deeply. “ _Oui._ ”

“Good night, _mes amis._ ” A small wave and another charming smile, then Francis was gone and the blond half-brothers were left alone in their dorm.

“So.” Matthew turned when Alfred spoke. “Why did you look so panicked when you came bursting in here?”

“Panicked?” He decided to play dumb.

“Yeah, panicked. I thought you were gonna have an anxiety attack or something when you saw Francis.” Suspicion entered the older boy’s expression and he stood. “Did something happen while you were at Gilbert’s?”

“No, of course not.” Avoiding eye contact, Matthew moved farther into the room and began getting ready for bed. He could feel Alfred’s eyes on him the whole while and knew his protective brother wasn’t prepared to let it go so easily. “We studied, he walked me back.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, ‘and?’ Nothing else happened.”

“Either tell the truth or learn to be a better liar, little bro.”

Exasperated and defensive, Matthew turned in time to see Alfred drop onto his bed to stretch out and lounge. “I’m not lying.”

“Sure you’re not.”

Matthew decided he didn’t have anything to say to that and finished his bedtime routine in silence. Since Alfred didn’t appear ready to go to bed yet, he left the lights on as he climbed up into his loft and settled down to sleep. He knew it was probably going to take him a while to actually fall asleep, but he also knew that if he stayed up, Alfred would keep asking him, and eventually he’d admit what he’d said. There was a good chance Alfred’s reaction would be supportive and sympathetic, but he still didn’t want to tell the older blond. He didn’t want anyone to know.

No one but him and Gilbert needed to know what he’d said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ROUGH) TRANSLATIONS:  
> Ich vermisse dich. Ich möchte die Dinge wieder normal. Ich weiß, dass ich durcheinander, und es tut mir leid. Wenn Francis dich glücklich macht, werde ich nicht stören. Nur, bitte, mich nicht hassen weil sie eifersüchtig auf ihn.  
> German: I miss you. I want things back to normal. I know I messed up, and I’m sorry. If Francis makes you happy, I won’t interfere. Just, please, don’t hate me for being jealous of him.  
> Soyez le bienvenu.  
> French: You're welcome


	24. Chapter 24

For how many people were there, Alfred and Matthew’s dorm was surprisingly quiet. Nearly all of them had crammed into the space, text books and notebooks and laptops out and open. Pencils and highlighters passed over paper, filling out study guides and marking notes. Matthew had placed himself above the others in his loft, back resting against the wall. His laptop was on, set in front of his folded legs, and there was a stack of books and papers to either side of him. In his lap was an open text book for his college algebra class, opened towards the back and balanced on one knee. His calculator was in hand, and the practice exam the professor had handed out was draped over his other knee. The blond was struggling a little more than he was comfortable with, but he had a few more days before this exam so he was sure he’d be ready in time. The practice problems were just so much more complicated than what they’d been doing so far.

Relaxing and rolling his neck, Matthew took a moment to work out the stiffness that had been settling in his muscles. His neck popped quietly, which felt nice enough that he closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. His back was starting to ache from all this studying—he was tempted to lie down in order to stretch out but the chances of him falling asleep if he did were just about one hundred percent. Sitting up was definitely the safer way to study.

He took a moment to relax, though, and let his eyes wander away from the language of algebra. Instead, he examined his friends in their various studying positions. Alfred was on his bed, head rocking slightly to the beat of whatever music he was listening to via some expensive-looking headphones. To the American’s left was Arthur, his forehead creased slightly as he stared at the screen of his computer. His fingers moved around the keyboard in slow, cautious strokes, typing out an essay or paper of some sort. Matthew’s desk had been claimed by Francis, who was absorbed in a set of flash cards he’d made for himself. Antonio was at Alfred’s desk, sitting with the chair backwards and reading hurriedly through a short novel for one of his lit classes. The futon was occupied by Yao and Ivan, though Matthew couldn’t see them and didn’t know what exactly they were up to. Just studying, like everyone else, because Finals Week was just as stressful as all his high school teachers had always said it was going to be.

Matthew sighed and picked up his pencil again. He should try to at least make it through this practice exam before Gilbert showed up. The Prussian was coming over after he finished working out with his brother and they were going to review for their history final. Their professor apparently wasn’t satisfied with the previous exams they’d taken, and both Matthew and Gilbert were ready to be finished with the class. The albino had said he would be over around 6pm, which meant Matt had about forty-five minutes until his friend arrived.

“I can’t study this anymore,” Alfred suddenly announced, taking his headphones off and setting them aside, along with his book and notes. “I’ll go crazy if I don’t take a break.”

“Then take one.” Arthur’s response was distracted, his attention still focused on his laptop.

“Then come with me.” Alfred stared at the Brit’s face.

“What?” Though he turned his head slightly, Arthur’s eyes remained on the computer screen. “No. I’m working.”

“You can take a break. We’ve all been working for a long time. Let’s go for coffee before we pass out.”

Arthur’s nose crinkled in disgust. “No, thank you.”

“Well,” Alfred grinned and slipped his arm around the smaller blond to pull Arthur closer, “tea for you, darling.” He purred the last word and Arthur shifted visibly as his face started to turn red.

“Get a room, _amigos._ ” Antonio hadn’t even looked over from where he was reading. The room was obviously tenser than it had been a moment ago and everyone, including Arthur, looked uncomfortable about it.

“We’re gonna go on a coffee run.” Standing, Alfred took hold of Arthur’s hand and pulled him to his feet. Arthur kept his eyes down as the two blonds put on their boots and coats and bundled up against the cold. They left in a hurry, but the tension didn’t fade, and the other college students didn’t relax.

“I’m hungry, aru,” Yao eventually spoke up. From beneath him, Matthew heard papers shuffling and the futon creak; both Yao and Ivan appeared in the middle of the room and began dressing for the winter weather. “We’re going to the gas station for snacks.”

“I’ll come.” It was the matter of a moment for Antonio to abandon his books. In almost no time at all, Matthew and Francis were left alone together.

Francis leaned back in Matt’s desk chair and stretched his arms over his head. “Zhat was interesting.”

“Yeah.”

“I suppose zhey’ll all be gone a long while.”

“Probably.” Matthew tried to be noncommittal. The room was waiting like a held breath. It made him uncomfortable to be surrounded by his brother’s residual sexual tension, and Francis wasn’t helping.

“Shall we relax while we have zhe chance?”

Should they? He knew what Francis was asking. They hadn’t had much time alone together lately, with Dead Week and Finals. Now they had the room to themselves, if only for a little while.

“ _Oui._ ” He began to move his things aside as Francis left the desk and climbed up into the loft. As soon as the Frenchman was close enough, he cupped Matthew’s face in his hands and kissed the younger blond. Matt let his eyes fall closed and returned the gentle pressure as the familiar little butterflies woke in his stomach.

“ _Matthieu,_ ” Francis sighed, breaking the kiss but not moving away. They were almost lying down now, the older student having skillfully maneuvered himself to kneel over the younger. Blushing lightly, Matthew looked up at the Frenchman and smiled a little. It always made him shy to hear his name said that way, and now was no exception.

For another few moments, the two merely shared smiles and held close to each other. Soon, though, Francis began the task of removing Matthew’s hoody. The shirt underneath was caught up and lifted as well, baring the Canadian’s torso and making Matthew blush ever darker.

“You’re beautiful.” The compliment was whispered, reassuring, and Francis leaned down to place a lingering kiss on Matt’s pale stomach. It made Matthew shiver and he looked away as he pulled his shirt back down. Francis didn’t complain, merely continued to remove his boyfriend’s hoody as if there had been no interruption. Once the younger blond was free of the thick red cloth, Francis set about the task of kissing him again. Matthew was lying flat on his back, his hands resting lightly on the Frenchman’s shoulders where they could easily move down to his back or wrap around his neck to pull him closer. Francis had lowered himself to his forearms to be close to the Canadian without burdening Matt with his weight. Instead he shared his body heat and kept Matthew’s mouth busy with small, tender kisses.

Despite the initial butterflies he’d felt and the way Francis had made him blush, Matthew had to force himself to focus on the blond above him. His thoughts wanted to wander. They were distracted by the books he’d abandoned and kept going back to the list of things he still needed to accomplish today. He needed to mark down his exam times in his planner and set alarms on his phone so he wouldn’t miss any of them. There was a paper due that he needed to read over for errors before he emailed it to the professor. He wanted to finish his practice exam for algebra before Gilbert came over. What would happen if the white-haired student walked in right now? If he caught Matthew and Francis kissing the way they were? Would he say something? Leave? Matthew couldn’t imagine the older boy would stay. It would be too awkward, too uncomfortable. Just the thought of seeing the hurt and jealousy in Gilbert’s red eyes made Matthew feel guilty even as the kisses he was sharing with Francis grew more insistent.

_No!_

It was a matter of will that Matthew didn’t turn his face away from Francis. What was he doing, thinking of the albino at a time like this? Why should he feel guilty for kissing his boyfriend? He liked Francis. They were dating. Kissing him was a perfectly acceptable activity. Gilbert knew they kissed and he accepted it. There was no reason for Matthew to be thinking about this the way he was.

_Francis. Think about Francis._

But he couldn’t get that arrogant smirk and red eyes out of his head. Oh, no. No, he said he wasn’t going to do this. He’d promised himself he wasn’t going to let his feelings for Gilbert interfere with his relationship with Francis. Why was this so hard? Francis had never hurt him and Gilbert had—separating his feelings should have been easy.

“ _Cher?_ ” Concern clouded Francis’ blue eyes as he pulled away and looked down at Matthew. “Is everyzhing all right?”

Feeling even guiltier than before because not only had he gotten distracted but he’d been so obvious about it that Francis was worried, Matthew nodded. “Sorry. Just…have a lot on my mind.”

“Your finals?” The Frenchman smiled. “You’ll do fine, _cher._ Zhere’s no reason to worry.”

Matthew hesitated, averted his gaze and fidgeted with the cloth of Francis’ shirt caught in his fingers. “It’s not just finals.”

“Zhen what is it? You can tell me, _Matthieu,_ you know zhat.”

But he didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to hurt Francis’ feelings by admitting that sometimes he thought about what dating Gilbert would be like. Repairing his friendship with the albino had brought back all the old feelings about wanting to cuddle and watch movies, going for walks late at night and stopping for pancakes. He didn’t do those things with Francis, not like he’d done them with Gilbert, and he missed it. Sure, the older blond would probably be willing to do those things if Matthew asked, but he didn’t want to do them with anyone but Gilbert.

“I’m afraid it’ll mean I’m a bad boyfriend,” he mumbled instead. It was true—he worried a lot that he was going to do something wrong and hurt Francis, or that something he did or said would anger the Frenchman like he’d angered Gilbert.

“Nonsense, _cher._ You’re a wonderful boyfriend _et_ you make me very happy.” There was a reassuring smile on the older blond’s elegant features that did absolutely nothing to make Matthew feel better.

_But_ I’m _not happy. I know I should be. I’m just…not._

Francis was good to him. Francis was kind and caring and cultured and sweet and smart, and Matthew didn’t have to wonder how he’d developed feelings for the man, but everything Francis was…wasn’t enough. How selfish did he have to be to think that Francis Bonnefoy wasn’t enough for him? Anyone would be lucky to catch the Frenchman’s eye. _He_ was lucky. Even at his lowest, Francis had cared enough to take care of him and help him get back to his old self. No one else had been able to do that. Yet there he was, thinking about Gilbert when he should have been thinking about his boyfriend and giving Francis every bit of attention the blue-eyed blond deserved.

Slowly, the smile left Francis’ face. “Zhere’s more to it zhan just zhat, isn’t zhere.”

Matthew was starting to feel small and cowardly. “ _Oui._ ”

“Is zhis too much?” Francis pushed himself up so he wasn’t so close to the younger blond. “We don’t have to do anyzhing, you know. If I made you uncomfortable…”

“No, it’s not that,” Matthew interrupted. “You’re perfect, Francis. It’s me. I guess I’m just not in the mood.”

Relief that he hadn’t done anything wrong mixed with disappointment that his current affections weren’t being fully returned replaced Francis’ worry. “I see.” The disappointment was quickly hidden behind a smile and Francis moved to sit up and lean against the wall. “Zhen let’s just sit and talk togezher.”

Matthew had no tolerance for feeling guilt. Even though he knew Francis would never admit that he wasn’t satisfied with just sitting and talking, they both knew it was the truth. The fact that he’d let the man down weighed heavily on Matt and within the next moment he’d made up his mind to fix it.

Sitting up, he slid the fingers of one hand into Francis’ hair and gripped gently as his head tilted to kiss the older boy’s neck.

“ _Matthieu?_ ” Francis looked down at him, clearly surprised, and Matthew offered a small smile.

“ _Oui?_ ” Another kiss followed the first, this time causing goosebumps to appear on the older boy’s skin. The sight was oddly pleasing, and Matthew wondered what other reactions he could earn through simple touches and kisses. Gilbert’s teasing and his time with Francis had taught him enough about how embarrassingly sensitive his own body was, but he hadn’t considered the possibility of either of the older males being just as sensitive.

“You are in zhe mood after all?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe I’m just not in the mood for the kind of kissing we were doing.” Flirting had to be the most awkward thing he’d ever attempted. Usually, it was Francis who said the romantic things, who offered compliments and instigated their more intimate moments. Matthew had never tried to take charge like this before, but he thought he could be good at it if he practiced enough. Just a couple of kisses had been easy, after all, so why couldn’t he do a little more?

There was an amused, curious light in Francis’ eye and he smiled with only one side of his mouth so that it was more like a smirk than a smile. “Is zhat so? Well zhen, why don’t you show me what you’re in zhe mood for, _mon petit Canadienne?_ ”

“I can do that.” With what he hoped was a flirtatious smile, Matthew shifted onto his knees and shuffled closer to the Frenchman. He had no idea what he was doing, but that didn’t matter, right? He could do this. He’d been dating Francis long enough to know what he liked. Yeah.

After he shoved his nerves down deep and breathed slowly to calm himself, Matt tightened his grip in Francis’ hair and pulled just enough to get the older blond to tilt his head back to expose his throat. The sight of pale neck made him swallow thickly before Matthew began to leave soft kisses up and down between the corner of Francis’ jaw and where his collarbone showed above the loose neckline of his shirt. Francis was always wearing clothes that draped and hung on his frame like the robes of a king, even if it was just jeans and a formal-casual shirt, he wore it like royalty. It was a confidence Matthew envied and that he took advantage of now. His own neck and shoulders had been the target of nips and kisses and hickeys before, so now it was his turn to return the favor.

“Mm…zhat feels nice, _cher…_ ”

The compliment almost made Matthew giggle nervously, but he held himself in check and continued with his ministrations. Soon, he traded the kisses for gentle bites and did his best to imitate the way Francis sometimes scraped his teeth over skin. That had always gotten at least a shiver out of the Canadian, and he found that Francis had a similar reaction. His kisses had caused goosebumps—the bites had Francis lifting a hand to stroke his hair as the Frenchman shifted and leaned a little closer.

_I’m good at this._

It was a source of pride that he could garner this sort of reaction from the unflappable Francis, even if it was a bit surprising. The fingers in his hair egged him on and Matthew dared to bite a little harder once he’d made his way down to the older blond’s collarbone yet again. A soft gasp reached his ears and he grinned in spite of himself. Harder, catching pale skin between his teeth and tugging gently.

“ _Matthieu…_ ”

Yeah, it was nice to hear his name breathed like that, made the Canadian release Francis’ skin and lick the reddening spot. But he hesitated before doing anything more. Should he leave a hickey there? He knew biting wasn’t enough to create a lasting mark and he was sure he could manage to do it, but would that be all right with Francis? The man liked showing off his collarbone and shoulders. Would a mark there make him self-conscious?

“ _Cher,_ ” Francis began, but stopped when voices sounded through the door.

Immediately, his hand left Matthew’s hair and the younger blond moved away to sit in a more innocent position next to his lightly flushed, goosebump-covered boyfriend. They were just in time to avoid being seen by Antonio, Yao, and Ivan as the three entered the room with plastic sacks hanging from their hands, full of what was probably junk food and energy drinks. Matthew and Francis exchanged embarrassed glances and tried to look like they hadn’t almost been caught.

“Al and Arthur aren’t back yet?” Antonio began emptying the contents of his bag onto Alfred’s desk.

“Not yet.” Casual and relaxed as if nothing had been going on, Francis climbed down from the loft and examined what had been brought from the gas station. “Zhey’re probably letting zhe coffee get cold while zhey get on in zhe car.”

“Get on?” Matthew leaned forward to peer over the side of his bed.

“He means they’re making out,” Antonio translated. “Like I’m sure you were doing while we were gone, _amigo._ ” One of the Spaniard’s dark eyebrows went up as he smirked knowingly.

Heat rushed to Matt’s face and he sat back again so that he wouldn’t be seen blushing so horribly. Apparently, he and Francis hadn’t been quick enough to avoid being caught, though Matt wouldn’t have been surprised if the three had left just to give him and the Frenchman a little alone time. It was like being in a relationship automatically meant that their friends would make excuses to leave. Alfred and Arthur had used a coffee run as an opportunity and, it seemed, the trip to the gas station hadn’t been for food as much as it had been a wingman move by the older students on Francis’ behalf.

_Did they plan that whole thing?_

It was embarrassing to think about. Did they really see him as the sort to take advantage of any amount of alone time with his boyfriend? They had, but Matthew wouldn’t have if Francis hadn’t asked. Maybe they just knew Francis wasn’t the type to pass up a chance for a little intimacy, and Matthew knew it, too. Besides, he’d had fun, right? He’d been the dominant one for once, and he’d been good at it. It was a good experience to have, and the Canadian couldn’t help but smile a little out of pride as he resumed working on his practice exam. He probably wasn’t going to get it done before Gilbert arrived to work on their history final, but that was all right. Now he knew he could give Francis goosebumps and make the man breathless, and that was enough of a victory to keep him happy for the rest of finals week.


	25. Chapter 25

Matthew hated airports. Crowded and noisy, so many strangers rushing around, weaving, talking on phones, arguing, sometimes lost or looking for scattered children. It was a whirl of chaos that Matt ghosted through. With a backpack and a small suitcase for carry-on luggage, the blond followed the signs to his gate and stepped into line to pass through security. It wasn’t going to be quite the same as going through the airport back home—he’d certainly overheard ruder people here than there.

Like those ahead of him, he took off his shoes and emptied his pockets into a tray. His bags were added to the conveyor belt and passed through the machine to be checked for dangerous items or substances. He had none, but he still felt an irrational spike of nervous worry as he stepped through the sensors. Nothing happened—at the end of the line he retrieved his shoes and bags and began to follow the signs once more.

Along with countless others, the Canadian found himself a seat and settled in to wait. It would be a while before it would be time to board the plane that was going to take him home, but he didn’t mind. After all the stress of his first college finals, the trip home was going to be a vacation in itself. He’d always wanted to fly while growing up and was looking forward to doing it for a second time.

_Zzz…zzz…_

Buzzing against his stomach led Matt to pull his phone out of his hoody pocket, the screen announcing that he had a new message from Francis.

_> >Have a safe flight, cher, et a wonderful Christmas break. Je te manques._

It was a sweet little message that put a smile on the shy blond’s face.

_< <Miss you, too. Happy Christmas!_

With nothing more to say than that, he tucked the phone away again and relaxed more fully in his chair. He sort of wanted to take a nap but he was worried he’d miss his flight if he didn’t pay enough attention to the announcements coming from the speakers overhead. This being the case, he forced himself to stay awake with the promise that he would spend the entire flight to Vancouver with his eyes closed. There was nothing like going home for break and arriving there well-rested, which was the opposite of when he’d arrived in America.

x

They were waiting on the front porch, and stood when the car pulled into the drive. She was smiling, he was not—he had the same hard, stoic expression that he always had. Even though the sight of them didn’t draw any words from Gilbert, Ludwig glanced at his older brother as he shut off the car.

“Come on.”

Moving at the same time, blond and albino left the car and approached the house. As always, Gilbert went to his mother first and hugger as his father and brother shook hands.

“ _Willkommen zu Hause._ ” Her words were soft and sincere, helping to soothe the agitation Gilbert had already started to feel just from the proximity to his _vater._ It was another moment or two before she released him, and he stepped back to trade places with Ludwig. Frozen eyes stared at him, a large hand extended.

Fearless, Gilbert took the hand and shook firmly. “ _Hallo, vater._ ”

“ _Hallo._ ”

The handshake was almost a fight in itself. They didn’t squeeze, weren’t trying to hurt each other, but neither was willing to be the first to let go or the first to look away. Gilbert thought the man had positioned himself perfectly, at the top of the steps so his sons, despite being just as tall, were forced to look up to meet his gaze.

_Arrogant bastard._

It annoyed him, but Gilbert didn’t let it show on his face. His expression matched his father’s almost perfectly, chin up and shoulders squared. If he didn’t make a stand for himself now, the next two weeks would be hell.

“Come inside,” his mother interrupted in her gentle tones, and Gilbert made sure to take his hand away before his father did, though not too quickly.

“We’ll get your bags after dinner.” She led the way inside, followed by her husband, then Ludwig then Gilbert.

Winter break had officially begun.

x

Both bags in hand, Matthew followed along the crowd leaving the plane and exited the terminal. When he’d first gone to America, his father had been waiting for him with a wide smile and spine-snapping hug. It had surprised him, considering he’d barely even talked to the man on the phone before, much less touched or seen him, but nice, he supposed. Here, though, there was no one to greet him.

He left the airport quickly but without hurry, and crossed a wide open space to a large shed. There was a huge garage door taking up the majority of one wall, and a smaller, regular door set next to it. When he reached the smaller door, Matthew knocked twice then waited. It opened a few moments later and a familiar bearded man leaned out into the cold.

“Yes?”

“Is the single passenger plane still scheduled to fly to Whistler today?”

“Ah!” The brown eyes brightened, and the man stepped back out of the doorway. “Matt! Almost didn’t recognize you! How ya been?”

Smiling, Matthew followed him into the shed. “I’m all right, It’s good to be home.”

“America’s treating you well, eh? That’s good, that’s good.” The man sort of mumbled to himself at the end but Matthew didn’t really notice. Everyone knew Captain Jimmy was a little odd, but he was a good pilot and Matt trusted him to fly his little plane without incident.

For as large as the shed was, there wasn’t much stored there. Jimmy’s plane, a fridge and microwave next to a crude-looking sink, a table with a couple chairs, and a cot in the corner next to a space heater along with a stack of thick blankets nearby was it. A door led to what was probably a small bathroom.

“What time are we leaving?”

“Soon as I finish my stew. Those all you got?” Jimmy pointed at the small bags Matthew had, and the blond nodded.

“This is it.”

“All right. Give me a few minutes. You hungry?”

“Oh, no, I’m all right. Dinner’s waiting for me at home.”

Jimmy shrugged and sat at his little table to finish the stew Matthew seemed to have interrupted. It only took him a few minutes to empty the bowl, and once he’d cleared his dishes to the sink, he smiled at Matthew.

“Let’s go!”

His bags were stored behind the passenger seat, strapped in so they wouldn’t slide around during the flight if they hit any turbulence. Then Matthew settled in his seat and fastened the buckles, making sure they were snug and secure. Captain Jimmy gave him a pair of thick headphones to protect his ears and so they could communicate, and then he waited in the plane as the garage door was opened. A second man appeared from somewhere, maybe from the main airport, and closed the shed after Jimmy drove the plane out into the open. There wasn’t much wind, luckily, but it still made Matthew feel better that there was someone to signal them as they took off.

A dull roar filled the air as they taxied down the runway, which quickly grew as their speed increased. In only a few minutes, Jimmy pulled back on his controls and the plane’s nose tipped up—they were airborne. Even though it was smaller and rockier and a little bit cramped, Matt preferred Jimmy’s little plane to the large commercial one he’d used to cross the border. The view from his tiny window had been that of an icy blue sky and the horizon of fluffy white clouds that looked like melted marshmallow or whipped cream or maybe a vanilla milkshake, sometimes rolling like waves or jagged like countless miniature mountains. That had been pretty, and he’d enjoyed the ice crystals that built up on the outer layer of Plexiglas, too. It was an amazing sight and he’d spent a little more time looking at it than he should have, since it meant he didn’t get as much sleep as he’d decided to get. Still, this smaller plane wouldn’t pass the clouds during the short flight to Matthew’s home. Well, the town near his home, where there was a tiny airport. From there, it would take a snowmobile or an all-terrain truck to make it up the mountain to his mother’s house.

“Storm tonight, but we’ll beat it if we make good time,” Jimmy informed him via the headphones, and Matthew nodded without taking his gaze away from the window. Not clouds, but the Canadian landscape, had caught his eye. The city was sprawled out below them, quickly giving way to housing areas and then the countryside. Trees, the occasional house, wide open fields all covered in snow and pristine white. It was beautiful, and it almost surprised Matthew at the swelling feeling in his heart as he looked at it. He’d been more homesick than he realized, and now he was back.

Home.

x

“How’s Feliciano doing, Ludvig?”

Glancing at his mother, the blond finished chewing his food and swallowed before answering. “He’s good. He _und_ his _bruder_ went home for break, as well, all zhe vay to Italy to visit zheir grandfazher.”

“Christmas in Italy sounds lovely, doesn’t it?” She was smiling still, eyes as kind as ever as she looked at her younger son.

“ _Ja,_ it does.”

“You’ll have to bring him to visit again in zhe spring.”

Ludwig was nodding when his father spoke up for the first time since saying Grace.

“Vhat about you, Gilbert?”

Surprised to be addressed without having said or done anything first, the albino looked at his father in mild confusion. “Vhat about me?”

“Is zhere somevone you vant to bring home to meet us?” The man’s expression was innocently curious, but Gilbert still didn’t trust it one bit. This was a trap. There was no way this could end well.

“ _Nein,_ zhere’s no vone.” It wasn’t really the truth but Gilbert didn’t feel like telling his father about the screwed up mess he’d made out of his friendship with Matthew, not to mention the fact that the blond was dating Francis, and his parents knew something had gone on with the Frenchman. His feelings and the situation he was in weren’t topics he wanted to discuss over dinner, not with the man sitting at the head of the table.

“My son’s too handsome to stay single so long,” his mother lamented humorously, looking at him with wide, falsely sad eyes.

“He didn’t,” Ludwig spoke up, earning a warning glare from his older brother. “Gil likes somevone.”

_Don’t say anozher vord, Lud,_ Gilbert threatened the blond in his thoughts, mortified that his parents might learn about Matthew.

The words made their mother perk up and she smiled at her first son despite the way Gilbert was staring across the table at Ludwig. “Really? Who? Are zhey smart? Are you going to bring zhem home to meet us?”

“ _Nein,_ Mozher, he—” the albino started to protest but stopped when the sound of his father muttering under his breath caught his attention.

“She. Vone gay son is enough.”

Gilbert almost didn’t catch his father’s words, but his head turned sharply to look at the man. He couldn’t believe his ears, but he’d known it would be this way, hadn’t he?

“Vhat,” the college student began, speaking louder than was necessary and making his brother and mother stare at him, “Ludvig can fuck anyvone he vants, but I better not dare to like a boy?”

“Gilbert!” his mother gasped, shocked at his language. In contrast, his father set down his silverware and met his son’s red-eyed gaze.

“You vill not speak zhat vay at dinner, Gilbert.”

“I can’t speak at all!” His temper flaring, Gilbert rose from his chair and slammed his palms down against the polished wood of the table. “Anyzhing I do is wrong and Ludvig couldn’t fuck up if he vanted to! He’s your favorite! Admit it! You love him more zhan me!”

“Your _bruder_ has nozhing to do vizh my opinion of you.”

“Liar! You liked me just fine before he vas born! It vasn’t until you had a perfect _normal_ son zhat I vasn’t good enough anymore! I remember!”

“Gilbert, please calm down,” his mother pleaded softly, one hand extended towards the white-haired boy. Too angry even to meet her gaze, Gilbert huffed and shoved his hands into his pockets. Normally, he would have stormed outside to have a smoke and calm down, but he was still getting over his nicotine addiction and Ludwig hadn’t been letting him buy cigarettes.

“Apologize to your mozher, _und_ sit down. I don’t vant to hear anozher vord out of you for zhe rest of zhe night.”

_Talking to me like I’m a child._

Hiding his disgust at the older man, Gilbert slowed his breathing and lifted his chin. “ _Nein._ I von’t sit here so you can judge me.” Before another word could be said, he pushed in his chair and left the dining room, straight past the kitchen and out the front door. Freezing winter air hit his face and arms, making him tense, but he didn’t go back inside for a coat. No way was he going back inside so soon after leaving like that.

Still, the cold made him start to shiver within moments, and his teeth were chattering violently like a jackhammer. Fuck it was cold, but not enough to calm him down. This cold just made him pace to keep his blood flowing, had him muttering under his breath.

The _bang_ of the screen door shutting alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone but Gilbert barely took the time to glance at the porch. Ludwig had followed him, just like last time.

“Mozher isn’t happy.”

“Neizher am I.”

“Fazher vants to speak vizh you.”

Gilbert snorted derisively before he could stop himself. “I don’t vant to speak vizh him.”

“Gilbert,” the blond sighed, and his brother rounded on him.

“You know I’m right,” the albino cut him off, eyebrows raised at he stared at his younger brother. “You know he treats me like a disease zhat’s infected his perfect life. He vishes I vas never born.”

“Zhat’s not true.”

“ _Nein?_ Zhen vhy does he act like I’m somezhing to be kicked under zhe rug? You can bring home Feli _und_ zhey love him. He charmed his vay into zheir hearts _und_ Fazher vill never say a vord against him. But if I brought Matt, if I brought home _any_ boy, he vould insult me in front of zhem. He vould not velcome zhem into his home. Zhat’s vhat he said—‘vone gay son is enough’—zhat’s vhy I left.”

“He just vants grandkids, Gil,” Ludwig tried to reason with the furious boy only to receive a withering look for his efforts.

“Zhen vhy doesn’t he get _you_ to have zhem?” Gilbert turned away from the younger male and tilted his head back to look at the sky. Dark clouds—no stars. Not a calming view. “He doesn’t zhink I’d make a good _vater._ He probably has nightmares about me giving him demon grandchildren. Little boys _und_ girls vizh vhite hair _und_ red eyes, pale _und_ small. Vhy vould he vant zhem any more zhan he vants me? He doesn’t vant me to have kids. He vants little blue-eyed, blond German babies, vants athletic boys _und_ strong, independent girls.”

Something caught in his throat and Gilbert fell silent, struggling to swallow past the painful lump. Fuck. No, he didn’t want to get all emotional right now. He was an adult, he could handle this, his emotions would not get the better of him. This was not the time. He was angry. Furious. Enraged.

But he couldn’t stop himself when he started to cry.

“Sh-shit,” the white-haired male muttered, wiping at his eyes and feeling the wetness of tears on the back of his hand.

“Gilbert.”

“Vhat?” he almost snapped at the younger boy, embarrassed to be caught crying over something as stupid as a fight with his father.

Without a word, Ludwig stepped down off the porch and hugged his brother tightly.

“L-let go,” Gilbert demanded, though there was no force in his tone, no bite or edge, so Ludwig ignored him until the albino let out a shaky breath and wrapped his arms around his brother. They stayed like that for a long while, until Gilbert managed to steady his breathing and relaxed in the younger male’s hold.

“ _Was auch immer Vater denkt, du bist mein Bruder und Ich liebe dich. Lassen Sie ihn nicht machen Sie sich in jemanden bist du nicht._ ”

It was probably one of the most encouraging things Gilbert had ever heard in his life, especially coming from his brother. He nodded, then squeezed the blond a little tighter.

“ _Danke._ ”

“ _Gern geschehen._ ”

Another several moments passed before the front door quietly opened then closed again, but they didn’t react to it.

“Boys,” the soft voice of their mother called out to them. Together, they released each other and turned to face her.

“ _Es tut mir leid,_ ” Gilbert spoke first, “for my outburst. It vas rude to ruin dinner.”

She smiled warmly. “You’re not zhe only vone who’s to blame. Ludvig, please go inside _und_ help your _vater_ clean up from dinner.”

“ _Ja._ ” Obediently, Ludwig went inside, leaving Gilbert alone with their mother.

Quiet, she sat on the front step and patted the spot next to her until her son sat, smiling gently, and wrapped her arm around his shoulders when he did. Neither of them said a word as Gilbert leaned against her, his throat still a little tight and his nose thick from crying.

It was already dark outside, the streetlamps bright and reflecting off the snow that covered their yard and the yards of their neighbors. Windows were lit in the other houses, occasionally showing the shadow of someone passing by. Gilbert and his mother watched the quiet existence of the neighborhood, coatless despite the cold but not shivering because of the warmth of each other.

“ _Verzeihen Sie,_ ” the albino mumbled again after some time, and she smiled and kissed his forehead.

“ _Ich liebe dich, und so hat Ihr Vater. Geben Sie ihm eine Chance, um zu kommen._ ”

As much as he didn’t want to believe that and didn’t want to give the man time to come around, Gilbert nodded and rested his head on her shoulder. “ _Ja, Mutter._ ”

x

It was dark by the time Captain Jimmy landed his small plane in Whistler’s tiny airfield, but under one of the yard lights was a familiar old truck, its headlights on and fumes coming out of the exhaust pipe as the engine ran to keep the figure inside warm.

“Thank you!” Smiling, Matthew shook Jimmy’s hand then picked up his two bags.

“Merry Christmas!”

Head bowed, the blond half jogged across the space between the plane and the truck. The door opened from the inside as he got close and he hurried to push his bags behind the front seat before climbing in and shutting the door against the cold. Immediately, he turned and hugged the woman in the driver’s seat.

“Mom.”

Arms wrapped around him, strong and comforting. “Hi, honey.”

It was good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ROUGH) TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Je te manques.  
> French: I miss you.  
> Willkommen zu Hause.  
> German: Welcome home.  
> Was auch immer Vater denkt, du bist mein Bruder und Ich liebe dich. Lassen Sie ihn nicht machen Sie sich in jemanden bist du nicht.  
> German: Whatever Father thinks, you’re my brother and I love you. Don’t let him make you into someone you’re not.  
> Es tut mir leid.  
> German:I’m sorry.  
> Verzeihen Sie.  
> German: Sorry.  
> Ich liebe dich, und so hat Ihr Vater. Geben Sie ihm eine Chance, um zu kommen.  
> German: I love you, and so does your father. Give him a chance to come around.


	26. Chapter 26

It was the smell of something warm and sweet filling his nose that woke Matthew from a rather deep sleep. The best sleep he’d had in months, the kind a person can only get when they’re finally home.

_Home._

Even the thought made Matthew feel warm inside. His bed was so comfortable, just a pile of thick blankets and pillows, and the heavy, warm body resting beside his own made it impossible for the winter chill to reach him. Slow breaths made the entire mattress shift, which really wasn’t that hard to do. It was big, but it was old, worn down on one side more than the other, and so familiar that Matthew had fallen asleep almost before his head hit the pillow the night before.

The same scent that had woken him was starting to lull him back to sleep, and Matthew didn’t fight it even though he knew he probably should. He wasn’t tired anymore, just so comfortable that getting up seemed liked way too much effort.

With a hum, the blond rolled onto his other side and into thick fur that threatened to suffocate him. The mass shifted, snuffling sounds reached him, then a wet nose began nudging at his face. A large, rough tongue dragged up his cheek. Matthew held in the first few chuckles, but soon he was outright laughing as he tried to shield his face from more licks.

“Hey, buddy,” he murmured, shoving the nose away and hugging its owner. A low almost-growl rumbled in the broad chest and the nose began sniffing at his hair and neck in a curious way. “Yeah, I smell funny, don’t I. I don’t smell like me.”

Groaning, Matthew’s companion gently mouthed at the blond’s shoulder, large, furry limbs and equally massive paws immobilizing him.

Laughing again, Matthew dug his fingers into the thick fur and scratched vigorously until the creature holding onto him rumbled and turned onto its back. Matthew sat up and continued his rubbing and scratching, earning happy sounds from the animal.

“Did you miss me? Yeah. I missed you, too, you big goof.” He was grinning as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the animal’s snout. “How’s my good boy, huh? How are you, Kuma?” There was enough light coming in through his window that Matthew easily made out round ears, small black eyes, and a large snout. Kuma’s mouth was filled with sharp teeth that had never been used in anything more aggressive than mouthing at his master’s limbs. That had ended in minor scratches and bruising, but nothing bad enough to worry Matthew. He didn’t mind the little injuries his beloved Kuma gave him. He’d always affectionately called them “love bites.”

Large head moved through a strong neck into powerful shoulders that were matched by the rest of Kuma’s bulk. He was a polar bear, small but strong, and Matthew’s love for him was just as strong as his love for his mother. Kuma looked up at Matthew with his mouth hanging open, tongue lolling out the way he’d learned from the dogs his mother kept. The sight made Matt grin, and he rubbed the bear’s belly with a playful growl. A large paw lifted and gently batted at him, knocking him to the side and off the bed with no effort at all. He hit the ground and rolled, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing until Kuma thudded off the bed and lumbered over to him, sniffing and snuffling at his fallen master. Just when the bear’s nose was over his face, Matthew took a deep breath and blew it into his friend’s nose, making Kuma snort and rear up. Almost too tall for the bedroom, the tips of Kuma’s ears brushed against the ceiling and he flicked them, front paws rubbing at his nose.

Still smiling because that trick always worked on the polar bear, Matt climbed to his feet and reached up to scratch behind one round ear. “Come on, let’s go see what Mom has for breakfast.”

Together, boy and bear left Matthew’s small bedroom and headed down a short hallway that was so narrow Kuma barely managed to fit. Small pictures hung on the walls, of Matt’s mother and her dogs, of him as a toddler, child, teenager, when he’d first rescued Kuma and his high school graduation and so on. There were pictures like these all over the house.

“Mom?” the blond called once he’d reached the end of the hall. There were only two directions to go, other than straight ahead to the front door. Right, to their small living room, which had a stone fireplace and a worn old couch with a handmade quilt neatly folded over the back. There was also an armchair that was probably older than Matt’s mother—he had fond memories of his mother sitting in it while he snuggled in her lap for a story before bedtime when he was little, the only light coming from the fire.

“In here,” a familiar voice called, and Matthew turned left towards the kitchen.

It was also their dining room, since their table occupied the corner with a vase that would hold wildflowers in the summer. Now, in the dead of winter, it would have been a sad reminder of the lack of color outside if the rest of the kitchen hadn’t been so colorful. Sky blue cabinets that Matthew and his mother had painted several years back, a wooden floor that was faded from use and sunlight, worn smooth and cool under bare feet. There were curtains on the windows by the table and over the sink, done in a Native design his mother had found in one of Whistler’s shops, shapes in rusty red and dusky orange, some violet and yellow, deep blues. The walls were painted a blue so pale it looked almost white, and a simple light fixture helped the sun filtering in through the windows illuminate the room.

“Morning,” Matthew greeted the woman standing at the counter, and she turned and smiled at him. She wasn’t classically beautiful, and Matthew looked nothing like her, but her smile was radiant. Dark hair fell in curls, pulled back in a ponytail that bounced and swayed as she moved. Her eyes were large and bright, a green that radiated mischief. Small, delicate features didn’t give away an ounce of strength, but Matthew knew his mother was strong. She always had been.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the light teasing; Kuma’s nose nudged his hand until Matt started scratching behind the bear’s ears. “Do I smell pancakes?”

“Of course. What else would I make for your first morning at home?”

Smile widening, Matthew moved forward and hugged the woman, his cheek resting on her shoulder as she returned the embrace. “You’re the best mom in the world.”

“I know.”

He squeezed a little bit before letting go. “Can I help?”

“You can start warming the maple syrup.”

Oh, warm, homemade maple syrup. Yes, he’d missed that.

“Okay.”

With Kuma settled down by the table to watch, Matthew began the familiar task of warming some of the homemade maple syrup they got from Whistler. A saucepan from one of the lower cabinets, a large, thick glass jar filled to the brim with the golden brown substance. There was a woman in Whistler who made her living off of this syrup, and it was the best anyone could get for miles. Even the local store didn’t sell factory made syrup anymore because no one was buying it. And this, when it was heated over a low, slow flame, was heaven, especially poured over the pancakes his mother made. The family recipe she used made them unbelievably fluffy—Matthew had never had a better pancake in his life than his mother’s.

“So, how were your finals? Your last letter said you were studying hard and nervous.” Green eyes looked at him over a shoulder.

“I haven’t gotten the grades back yet, but I think I did pretty well.”

“And Alfred? How’d he do?”

Matthew wasn’t surprised that she was asking about his rambunctious half-brother. As surprised as she’d been to finally hear from his father after all these years, and then angry to find out that she’d been an affair, she wasn’t holding anything against Alfred. It wasn’t his fault that their father had been unfaithful, after all, and at least the man was trying to make up for it by paying for Matt’s schooling. “He was nervous every time he went to take one, but he always came back really confident that he’d passed.” Remembering his brother’s antics during finals put a smile on Matthew’s face as he worked at the stove.

“I’m glad the two of you get along.”

“So am I.”

She didn’t ask any more questions and he didn’t try to start conversation. They were both quiet people, and working together in silence was more than comfortable. There was no need for useless chatter.

x

_Come on! Come on!_

Panting heavily, Gilbert urged himself on. Ludwig was right beside him, just as out of breath as the albino and straining just as hard to pull ahead. Their house was just down the block and drawing closer every second, with every labored breath and powerful stride. They’d gone for a jog, just a short one, to keep in some semblance of shape during break since there was no local gym and their father kept very little exercise equipment in the house. Now that they were nearing home, an unspoken challenge had been issued and they were racing. Ludwig was more muscular, was a better sprinter, but Gilbert had longer legs and a little too much energy to burn after such a relaxed jog. So they were neck-and-neck, running for all they were worth towards their house, and neither boy was willing to give an inch.

Only ten feet from the gate, Gilbert put every last ounce of energy into his legs and began to pull ahead, but Ludwig noticed and pushed harder. They were even again when they flew past the gate. Within another five feet, the brothers had slowed and stopped, hands clasped above their heads as they paced small circles and tried to catch their breath. Their eyes met and they both grinned but didn’t speak, gave breathless chuckles and began their slow way back to the gate and up the sidewalk towards the house.

“Have a good run?” Waiting for them on the front porch, their mother smiled and held out two large cups of water.

“ _Ja._ ” At the same time, Ludwig and Gilbert accepted the cups and took small sips to ease the dry feeling in their throats. Running at winter wasn’t exactly good for the lungs, since cold air was harder to breathe than warm air was, but that didn’t stop them, and their mother knew better than to give them ice water. This was lukewarm and felt heavenly.

“I’ll make some cocoa after you shower.”

They smiled again. “ _Danke._ ” The word was breathless but still understandable, and they each hugged her before moving past and going inside.

“You can shower first.” Gilbert parted from his brother once they’d gone upstairs, heading towards his own room.

“All right.”

“Don’t use up all zhe hot vater.”

“ _Ja, ja._ ” Ludwig waved his hand dismissively and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself.

The albino chuckled and went into his bedroom, shutting the door and locking it. As hard as they’d run at the end, that little jog hadn’t been enough for him to feel like he’d accomplished anything, and without exercise equipment to use, he was going to have to resort to plainer means.

After clearing a space on his floor—which didn’t exactly take long, considering how clean he kept his room—Gilbert stretched and sat down. He laid back and shoved the fronts of his shoes under the edge of his dresser to anchor them, clasped his hands together behind his head, and began a round of sit ups.

_Eins…zwei…drei…_

He meant to do at least one hundred of them, just to give himself a little bit of a workout. Sit ups were easy after the equipment the college’s recreational center had, and he could probably have done about three hundred before getting tired, but he didn’t want to completely wear himself out.

_Siebenundvierzig…achtundvierzig…neunundvierzig…_

Fifty. Halfway there. He had just the slightest burn in his abdominal muscles, and he was still out of breath from running, but that didn’t slow him down. It was almost hard to believe that at the beginning of the school year, one hundred sit ups would have been as much as he could do. He’d gotten so out of shape after high school—there’d been too many other things to do once he got to college. Working out with Ludwig had never crossed his mind as more than a stupid idea because why would anyone want to try to keep up with the blond? But he not only kept up with his younger brother, he pushed him. They pushed each other and no one else came close.

One hundred.

Letting out a sigh, Gilbert fell back on the floor and relaxed, giving himself time to catch his breath. He meant to do pushups, too, but only fifty so that his arms wouldn’t wear out too easily during the rest of the day.

His feet were pulled free of the dresser and he scooted back into the largest space in his bedroom, turned over, and began his pushups. He could feel his shoulder blades touching every time he lowered himself towards the carpet, a frequent reminder not to go too low or he would strain something. Ludwig didn’t have that problem, since his shoulders were so wide, but Gilbert had always had a narrower frame.

Pushups took longer than sit ups, and his arms were trembling when he sat on the floor and took a moment to relax. The shower was still running, so he couldn’t go do that yet. He had no homework to do over break, and there was no point in getting invested in a movie or videogame if Ludwig was going to finish showering within the next ten minutes. So what should he do to waste away the next few minutes?

Did Matthew have his phone? He was in Canada…did being in another country affect your phone? Or maybe he had a separate plan there that he could use. Gilbert wanted to assume he did. He wanted to text the shy blond and ask him how his first few days of winter break had gone, but he didn’t make any moves to find his phone. It was around here somewhere, he knew, he just wasn’t sure where exactly. He hadn’t touched it since arriving home because there was no one he was particularly interested in texting besides Matt, and he didn’t have any games on it to waste away his hours on.

If he couldn’t figure out what to do for these few minutes, how was he going to know how to spend the rest of his day? Probably videogames. He would get Ludwig to come play _CoD_ or _Halo_ or something. Or maybe he’d play one of his rpg’s and spend his entire day locked in his room. No one would bother him, he knew that. His father kept to himself and Ludwig was too familiar with his loner tendencies, and his mother had always respected his privacy. A movie marathon wouldn’t be too bad, either. He could watch all six _Star Wars_ movies, or _Lord of the Rings,_ or _Star Trek._ Maybe he would dig out his _StarGate_ DVDs.

The water shut off; he heard the shower curtain being drawn back. Only a couple of minutes now before Ludwig would be out of the bathroom, and then it would be his turn. He wondered if the blond wanted to spend the day together. They hadn’t really interacted much since coming home, not after the fight Gilbert had with their father and Ludwig had come to talk to him. Jogging this morning was the first time they’d said more than a few words to each other in days.

Heaving a sigh, Gilbert drew up his knees so he could reach his feet in order to untie his shoes. They were left near the closet, and he tossed his socks into the hamper before he bothered to stand. A warm shower would be nice, and then cocoa after that. He would spend the rest of the day in sweat pants and a tshirt, just lazing around because he could.

He left his room just as the bathroom door opened, and Gilbert stepped out with a towel around his waist and another draped over his head as he rubbed at his hair. Without glancing at his brother, the blond turned and crossed the small landing of the upper floor of their house and went into his room; Gilbert was in the bathroom with the door shut and locked before Ludwig could do the same.

Quickly, he stripped and left his clothes in a pile by the door. Turning the water on came next, already warmed up from his brother’s shower, and he stepped into the shower stall after barely a minute in the bathroom. His hair was plastered to his scalp in seconds, nearly transparent while it was wet, and he popped his neck as his eyes closed. Damn, this was nice. Showers were great.

_Didn’t care for zhem during vizhdrawal._

True, but he hadn’t really cared for anything during the early days of trying to quit smoking. Headaches and tremors and the like had left him moody and agitated. Hot showers hadn’t done a thing, and then he’d tried to—

_Nein, don’t zhink about zhat._

He didn’t want to, but the more he tried to focus on his shower, the more memories of that night his brain drew up. Trying to jack off and not being able to because Matthew had been so upset, going out drinking, ending up talking to Ivan, and then…he still couldn’t believe he’d sunk that low. Even in high school, he’d never done anything like that. He’d been way more in control of himself, even when drinking illegally while underage.

“I’m not like zhat anymore,” he said quietly, the words almost lost in the sounds of the shower. “I’m better now.”

Wanting to smoke was a rare occurrence now, and he’d made up with Matthew. He hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since that night. Things were better. He was better. Not perfect, but better.


	27. Chapter 27

A couple of knocks on his door went mostly unnoticed as Gilbert focused on the small TV set up in the corner of his room. Really, they were barely audible over the sounds of his game, which consisted of gunfire and explosions and ominous music. If the knocks hadn’t been the sharp, distinct sound of knuckles rapping against the wood of his door, he really wouldn’t have known about them.

“ _Ja?_ ” he called distractedly, turning his head a little but keeping his eyes on the screen so he wouldn’t make a mistake and die. It was probably just Ludwig, so he wasn’t worried about having to pause the game or anything like that. The blond would just talk to him about whatever he wanted while Gilbert played. But when the door opened and the person merely stepped into his room and cleared their throat, Gilbert didn’t recognize it. That wasn’t how his mother announced her presence, and it wasn’t Ludwig’s usual, either.

Once he realized there was only one other possibility as to who had just come into his room, he hit the Start button so that the game froze and looked up. Surprise made his eyebrows go up and he sat there for several moments before he found his voice. “ _Vater,_ I didn’t zhink—I zhought you vere Ludvig.” Should he stand? His father had never come into his room like this before. Ever. Fights always took place in the hall or elsewhere in the house—Gilbert’s room was where the albino had gone to get away from the man, if he didn’t simply storm out of the house. For his father to knock and come in…it was unheard of. And as unsure of what to do as the boy was, the man standing by his door looked even less sure of what he’d gone into his son’s room for. “Uh…did you need somezhing?” he tried to be polite as he asked rather than use his regular impertinent tone.

The blond man standing near the door fidgeted momentarily before he seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly held his arms straight at his sides with his shoulders back. “ _Nein,_ it is…your _Mutter_ has dinner ready.”

Wow, Gilbert had never seen his father so off-balance before. It was strange, and disconcerting. Someone who’d always been completely in control was speaking quietly, in a tone that utterly lacked authority, and he had no idea how to act. There was no reason to be petulant or angry, but he…didn’t know how else to be. Sad to think he had no relationship with his father outside of arguing, but all of that was habit by now. This was uncharted territory.

“I’ll be down in a second,” the albino said slowly, almost as if he wasn’t sure he was saying the right thing. His father nodded once, chin bobbing up and down in a quick, short movement, then stood there in a rather awkward silence.

“Vell, all right.” They looked at each other for a moment before he slipped out of Gilbert’s room and shut the door behind him, leaving a very confused son behind.

_Vhat zhe hell vas zhat?_

His father coming to let him know it was time for dinner? Weird. Very weird. Normally, Ludwig would simply call to him through the door or his mother would come get him, but not his father. Never his father. It was so strange that Gilbert didn’t move for over a minute, he just sat there staring at the spot where his father had stood and tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Slowly, the college student set down the controller he’d still been holding then leaned back against the frame of his bed. He was sitting on the floor, a cushion tucked underneath him for comfort and a cup with only a little bit of water left in it next to him. The TV was on a shelf, so he had to look up to see it, but he preferred gaming this way. It was comfortable. His game was still paused, waiting for him to hit the Start button again and keep playing, but he pushed the controller out of the way so it wouldn’t get stepped on and didn’t touch it again. The game could wait. First, he had to go to dinner and see why his father was acting so strangely.

Leaving his game, Gilbert stood, stretched, and wandered out of his bedroom. Smells of dinner wafted up from the kitchen, something grilled and seasoned that tempted his nose. _Mutter_ had apparently made pork chops or steak or something of the sort, grilled out back with the help of _Vater._ There would be salad, too, and more than likely some sort of potato side dish. A typical home-cooked meal in their house, the kind he’d missed while at school. If dinner was starting off so weird already, he was really kind of excited to see what else was going to happen.

He almost hurried down the stairs, socked feet thumping on each step, then slowed again as he reached the dining room. Ludwig was already there, setting the food out on the table, and Gilbert was quick to help him. Questions about their father were on the tip of his tongue but he held them back. There was a good chance Ludwig wouldn’t be able to tell him anything, and he wanted to figure out for himself, anyway.

By the time the two brothers had finished setting out and arranging the food and tableware, their parents had come in and were taking their seats.

“ _Danke,_ ” their mother said with a smile as the two sat.

“ _Gern geschehen,_ ” Ludwig replied with a polite nod, and Gilbert smiled.

For a moment, the family sat in silence with bowed heads, then all at the same time straightened and began reaching for the food to serve themselves. Gilbert had been right to guess pork chops, and the side was mashed potatoes with a gravy that would also be great on the chops. The salad had chopped tomatoes and avocado in it, and croutons. _Mutter_ never made boring salads.

The four had been eating for at least a couple of minutes without anything else being said, then Gilbert and Ludwig’s father cleared his throat. Ludwig looked at him expectantly, all set to listen while his older brother continued eating because he was rarely part of dinnertime conversations, especially after his outburst the other night. He made sure to at least half-listen, though, because he was still waiting to see how much weirder this dinner was going to get.

“Gilbert.”

Surprised despite himself, the albino paused with his potato-laden fork halfway to his mouth, red eyes sliding sideways so he could see his father without turning his head. He lowered the fork to his plate and sat up in his chair. “ _Ja?_ ”

The older blond gently placed his silverware on the table and folded his hands, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me about zhis boy you like.”

Wait, _what?_ No way. He hadn’t really just asked that. There was no way. This was a joke, or he was hallucinating, or something. Anything. Any other explanation would make more sense. His father didn’t care who he liked, the man would probably rather he not like anyone. Gilbert being in a relationship would be either a source of shame to him or a source of worry. It hadn’t been an exaggeration when he told Ludwig that little albino children wouldn’t exactly be welcomed by their grandfather, though the chances of him passing albinism to any kids he might have were pretty slim. Not that Gilbert wanted kids. He wasn’t sure if he could handle a few mini hims running around, even if he had someone else to help him take care of the little devils.

And that was the moment that Gilbert, completely unintentionally, imagined what Matthew would look like holding a little boy with wavy white hair and red eyes, with a funny little curl off to one side, glasses, and a shy smile.

_Idiot. It vouldn’t look like us. Ve can’t have a kid togezher._

Yeah, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him from picturing it, and damn it was cute. But he knew that if he was ever going to have kids, especially if he ended up with another guy and they didn’t want to adopt, he wouldn’t be the father. His partner would be. There would be as little chance of the kid having albinism as possible.

“Gilbert?”

The sound of his mother saying his name worriedly drew Gilbert from his thoughts and he looked at her before he realized he’d never answered his father.

“Oh, sorry, I vas just zhinking.” Somewhat hesitant, the albino shifted in his chair and faced his father, trying to look and sound polite. “Vhat do you vant to know?”

“Vhat’s his name?”

“Matzhew Villiams.”

“Vhere’s he from?”

“Canada.”

“Oh. How did you meet him?”

“Ve had history class togezher. Zhe teacher vas an idiot _und_ I pointed it out, _und_ zhat’s how I became friends vizh him.”

“Because of your teacher?”

“ _Ja._ He couldn’t remember Matt’s name for some reason.”

“Ah. Vell, tell us about him. Vhat about his family? Vhy do you like him?”

Okay, this was by far the weirdest dinner Gilbert had ever sat through. His father was acting like he was genuinely interested in knowing about the Canadian his son apparently had a crush on, and that was something that had definitely never happened before. As far as his parents knew, Gilbert had never so much as gone on a date. He’d never told them about any of his dates or partners because, well, the people he dated weren’t the sort his parents would have approved of. But Matthew was…well, Gilbert though his parents would like the shy blond just as much as he did.

“He has vone _bruder,_ Alfred, who’s nozhing like Matt at all, but zhey get along really vell. Alfred’s an American; zhey’re only half- _bruders._ His _mutter_ lives in Canada, _und_ he’s,” Gilbert paused, trying to come with a description of Matthew that wasn’t entirely cliché, “Vell, he’s really quiet. Shy. But he has a temper—he’s told me off more zhan vonce,” he admitted with a quiet chuckle, and his mother smiled. “He’s also very polite _und_ friendly _und_ caring. _Und_ he’s smart. Much smarter zhan me, but he doesn’t make me feel stupid. Being around him motivates me to try harder at school.”

As soon as he said it, Gilbert could see the approval in his parents’ faces. It was strange. His father hadn’t looked at him like that in a long, long time. Knowing that, even though Matthew was a boy, his father approved so far, gave him a sense of victory he wasn’t entirely sure about. It was victory and relief and pride all rolled into one and he had a sudden urge to hug Matthew, pull him close and lift him off his feet and congratulate him for being a hit with his parents before they’d ever even met him. He was sure it would make the Canadian blush.

Smiling now, Gilbert continued with more confidence. “He likes to read, _und_ go for valks, _und_ his favorite zhing in zhe vorld is maple syrup. He isn’t athletic, but he’s skinny. Pale. Blond. His eyes are strange, a sort of blue-violet. _Und_ he vears glasses. His hair is longer, _und_ vavy, _und_ he’s got zhis vone little curl…” Realizing how sappy he sounded, the albino let himself trail into silence and focused on his half-emptied plate. Ludwig was looking at him with the most annoying smile, like he thought his older brother was just too cute when he was talking about the Canadian. His embarrassment made Gilbert want to smack the smile right off the blond’s face.

“He sounds lovely, Gilbert,” his mother commented, still smiling, and reached out to touch her first son’s hand. “I vould love to meet him.”

“ _Ja,_ ” his father added, straightening in his chair, “invite him to come visit for a weekend.”

Immediately, Gilbert’s stomach dropped. “I can’t,” he said quietly, and both of his parents looked at him with slight, confused frowns.

“Vhy not?” “He’s…”

_Dating Francis. Vizh somevone. Taken. Unavailable. Ve’re just friends._

“It just…it vouldn’t be a good idea. His boyfriend vouldn’t like it.”

“Oh.” There was such heavy disappointment in his mother’s voice that Gilbert actually felt bad. He really wished he could bring home a nice boy or girlfriend for his parents to meet and like and accept the way they did with Feliciano. His mother obviously wanted him to settle down with someone and be happy, but the only person Gilbert had ever liked who he could even consider settling down with for something longterm was taken, and it was his fault because he’d screwed himself over.

Slowly, the albino nodded, his gaze lowered and his hands in his lap. An uncomfortable silence settled over the table, thick with unspoken apologies and sympathies. It was good that no one tried to say anything to comfort him—Gilbert would just have insisted that it was fine, that he was fine, that it didn’t matter because at least he was friends with the shy blond and that was enough for him. Even though he knew it wasn’t, and having to sit there surrounded by sympathy and pity was comparable to torture.

The first thing he thought to do to make the moment pass was to start eating again, but the food on his plate looked unusually unappetizing all of a sudden.

“I’m not hungry,” Gilbert murmured, pushing his chair back and standing. In silence, he cleared his plate to the kitchen and sealed his food in little baggies before putting it in the fridge for later. No one said a word as he passed and went upstairs, into his room, and shut the door behind himself. Ignoring his still-paused game, the albino lay on his bed and shoved his face into his pillow, sighing heavily.

The first time his father ever bothered to ask about who Gilbert liked, and it had to end like that. Fucking perfect. He couldn’t deny it had been an improvement from regular dinner time interactions between himself and his father, but still. Why did it have to end like that?

_Because I vas an asshole, zhat’s vhy. I can barely get along vizh my own vater. How vould I ever make somezhing vizh Matt vork?_

That was definitely a question for the heavens.


	28. Chapter 28

_Eggs, butter, frozen vegetables._

Only a few of the items on the list his mother had given him ran through Matt’s mind but he wasn’t worried about forgetting anything. He’d gone for groceries countless times, and his mother always made sure her list was complete before she sent him. There was no point in making the journey to Whistler just to forget something. Making another trip to get whatever had been left would be impractical. Fuel was expensive way out here and travelling in the dead of winter could be dangerous. So they were always careful to make sure everything they were going to need was on that list, and Matthew always left early in the afternoon to make sure he would be able to get home before dark.

Whistler was nice enough, but getting there and back was his favorite part. It was the only time he was allowed to take out the snowmobile.

Thick ear muffs dampened the roar of the engine as he sped down the mountain. His hair was covered by a knitted hat, and goggles protected his eyes from the wind and snow. A thick coat, gloves, a scarf pulled up over his face and tucked under his hat to protect his ears and neck, along with two layers of pants and heavy water-proof boots kept the rest of him warm despite the freezing winter air rushing around him. There was also a rather larger rucksack strapped to his back to carry the groceries home in that, empty for now, flapped and rustled in the wind.

Everything was white. Even the sky was such a pale, icy blue that it might as well have been. The green of the trees was muted by snow and ice. Matt was a dot of color speeding down the mountainside. Whistler was at the bottom, settled in a valley where it was more or less protected from the worst of the winter blizzards. It wasn’t exactly a long journey, but the trip back up would be a lot worse than the trip down was. He would have to go slower then because he’d be carrying the groceries, and since uphill was always slower regardless. For now, he was just enjoying the speed and freedom of it. He’d missed this while at school.

Somewhere behind him, Kuma was running as fast as the bear’s paws would carry him. When he was small, he’d gotten to ride on the red snowmobile with Matt, but he was much, much too big for that now. So he ran along behind and tracked Matthew down to join him while he shopped. It wouldn’t take him very long to catch up, though he’d demand a snack to reward him for all his hard work. Matthew didn’t mind that. He was just glad the bear bothered to come with him. Just about everyone in town loved Kuma, and those that didn’t usually didn’t say anything. No one wanted to insult a polar bear to his face, after all.

Finally, Matt reached the base of the mountain and found the road leading to Whistler. It wasn’t exactly obvious, but he was so used to the area that it didn’t matter. He probably could have found the town in the dead of night if he’d needed to. Probably.

The snow here was packed down and bulldozed off to the side to keep the road more-or-less clear, but there was still enough of it on the road for him to drive on it. And there was almost never traffic, so he went as fast as he wanted to. If his hat hadn’t been firmly strapped under his chin, he would definitely have lost it in the rushing wind. But he had way too much practice to do something as moronic as lose his hat, so all of his clothes stayed secure around his body as he made his way closer and closer to town.

It was a good twenty minutes before he came across the first outlying buildings. Sheds, mostly, then houses and finally businesses. Whistler had a typical main street, with the shops lining each side of the road and a bar on the corner of the main intersection. It wasn’t a big town by any means, but it provided goods and services for all the surrounding farms and rural homes, so it had a grocery store and a library and things of that sort. Matthew stopped the snowmobile before he got into the thick of the shops and parked it at the curb, making the sure the keys were safely zipped inside his pocket before he left it there. Everyone around knew who it belonged to, so he wasn’t worried about anything happening to it. The people here liked his mother and if someone decided to vandalize it or steal it, someone else would see and it wouldn’t be long before the culprit was caught.

That was definitely a bonus of living close to such a small town.

Glancing back even though he knew Kuma wouldn’t show up for quite a while yet, Matthew began the short walk down main street. The grocery store was near the corner, so he had quite a ways to go before he reached it. First, though, he had a couple other stops to make.

First, into a small crafts store to pick up yarn and wool.

“Matthew Williams! I didn’t know you were home!” A rather plump woman greeted him with a wide smile, bustling around her counter and coming towards him for a hug. Her greying hair was pulled back in a braid that hung a good ways down her back and swung as she moved.

“Mrs. Fauler, how are you?” he asked politely, returning her smile and hug. It was a warm embrace that very nearly popped his back and probably would have if not for the thick layers of cloth covering his frame. Mrs. Fauler wasn’t the type of woman to give half-hearted hugs and Matt had never minded it.

“I’m just fine. It’s good to see you again, Matthew. Your mother was terribly lonely up on that mountain all by herself.”

“I think she managed,” the blond replied, still smiling. “She kept herself busy.”

“She never stops moving, does she?”

“No, not usually.”

They both chuckled a little at that because Matt’s mom was rather well known for keeping herself involved. She was an active member of the community despite living outside of town, and she always had some sort of project going on. Which was exactly why Matthew had gone into Mrs. Fauler’s craft shop in the first place.

Humming contentedly to herself, Mrs. Fauler moved back around to her chair behind the counter and settled comfortably against the plush cushions. “So, what can I help you with, dear?”

“Mom needs more wool to finish a blanket she’s been working on.”

“Oh,” the storewoman gave him a knowing look, “red and white, eh?”

Matt wasn’t even vaguely surprised to hear that she knew what colors he needed. “Yes.”

Mrs. Fauler smiled and shifted, settling deeper into her chair, “It’s in the back, near the wall. Should be easy to find.”

“Thank you.” Leaving her to do whatever it was she did all day when there were no customers to chat and gossip with, Matthew moved farther into the shop until he found the wool section. It was a familiar spot for him, and he found the colors he needed just as easily as he and Mrs. Fauler had known he would.

Just as his mother’s note instructed, he grabbed three spools of each color before going back up front to the counter. Mrs. Fauler was exactly as he’d left her, so he smiled and set the wool down.

“This all for you today, Matthew?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Another moment later and she’d rung up the wool, and he passed her the money. It was good to use his own currency again, the colored bills that he’d grown up with. American money was so strange—all one color and easy to mix up. He much preferred Canadian currency, but maybe that was just because he was used to it. Alfred would probably think the money Matthew used was weird, too.

“Take care now, Matthew, and tell your mother I said hello.”

“I will, thank you, Mrs. Fauler. Have a good afternoon.” With a smile and a wave, the blond left the crafts shop and continued down the street. The pale sky wasn’t quite so pale now, though it was grey rather than blue. Clouds were beginning to gather; it was probably going to snow later in the evening.

_I’d better get home before that starts._

Now with a little more speed to his steps, Matt made his way from shop to shop, gathering the items on the list in his pocket. It all went into the rucksack as soon as he was out the door of the shops, so the weight at his back steadily grew until he had to lean forward to counter it. Everyone he saw and talked to was glad he was home, and they all made him agree to pass their well-wishes onto his mother. It wasn’t until he was approaching the grocery store that Matthew spotted a few familiar acquaintances he would rather not talk to.

He ducked, keeping his face down, and tightened the rucksack straps around is chest as if that would protect him somehow. If he could just get into the grocery store then he could vanish among the shelves and they’d never even notice him.

“Hey, Williams!”

_Too late._

Forcing a smile, Matthew stopped and turned. There were five of them, a group of boys he’d known since his kindergarten days because they’d been in the same grade level as him. They were dressed similarly to him, though their clothing was admittedly nicer than his was. But Matt didn’t care about that. He liked his clothes just fine.

“Hello,” he greeted the other boys, quietly but politely, shifting the straps of his rucksack on his shoulders.

“How ya been, buddy? Going to school in America, right?” the first asked, leading the others closer to Matthew even though the blond really didn’t feel comfortable with them so much as looking at him.

“Yes, that’s right,” he answered, almost cautious. There was no way this conversation was going to be polite chit-chat. It never was with these boys.

The one who’d spoken before smirked, his hands shoved deep in his pockets to protect them. “Must be nice having a rich daddy to pay for your college.”

It wasn’t even that college here in Canada was expensive—they were just so far away from the major cities that going to one of them was a lot of moving and work.

“It is, I suppose.” Not good. This was not good. He wasn’t surprised they knew about his father showing up out of nowhere and whisking him away to America to attend college with Alfred, but he’d never gotten along with these boys, and he really didn’t think now was going to be a moment of change for them.

“Yeah, too bad he can’t get your mum out of here, too. S’pose that’s ‘cause he doesn’t love her, though.” One of the other boys said, turning his attention to his fellows for the last part.

“Too bad.”

“It’s unfortunate, really.”

“Poor bastard Mattie and his husbandless mummy.”

They were making falsely sad, pouty faces at him now and Matthew was distinctly uncomfortable. He didn’t like being called a bastard, or for anyone to look down on his mother, but he was outnumbered and with all the extra weight on his back like this it would be easy for his former classmates to make things difficult for him. It would be better to just walk away.

“Right. Well, it was good seeing you. Have a good afternoon.” He turned, intending to walk the rest of the way to the grocery store and take sanctuary inside.

“You got yourself a boyfriend yet, Williams?” one of the boys called after him, clearly taunting him just as they’d always done while growing up. “Some loud-mouthed American you let put his grubby hands all over you?”

Matthew stopped dead in his tracks, thoughts of Francis filling his head. If ever there was a time to show these boys that he wasn’t as worthless as they’d always made him out to be, now was it.

“He’s French, actually.” Smiling for real this time, Matt turned and looked the other teens dead in the eye for probably the fourth time since he’d met them. “He’s handsome and talented and the kindest man I’ve ever met, and not that it’s your business, but I do enjoy it when he touches me. Have a good afternoon.” His tone was more than a little smug towards the end and he turned to walk away with a stiff spine and a sense of triumph like he’d never felt before. They’d looked completely dumb-founded to see him respond—no doubt they thought they’d scared him off. It was exactly what they’d been doing to him for years. But bringing his love life into it, and assuming he would date someone like they’d described, had been a little much. He was dating Francis and the Frenchman was wonderful. Of course he was going to defend him.

Pleased by his ability to somewhat get back at his schoolmates, Matthew couldn’t help but smile throughout the grocery store. Vegetables and fruits were first, most of which were frozen or preserved in some form, so he wasn’t exactly in a hurry. They would stay nice and cold for the trip home and go straight into the shed to keep them that way. There were a few greenhouses in Whistler that sold fresh fruit and vegetables, and a lot of people in town bought them, but it didn’t usually worked out to try that when he had to carry them all the way back up the mountain. Frozen food was just easier.

It took him nearly half an hour to find everything he was going to need, and that wasn’t counting the extra minutes he spent talking to the other shoppers about school and his brother. Talking about Alfred and Francis and Gilbert made him a little homesick for school, which surprised him. When he’d first flown down to America, missing the place wasn’t something he had ever thought he would do.

By the time he left the grocery store, the sky was a darker grey and the first few flakes were beginning to fall. Maybe it would stay that way, just little flakes that drifted lazily out of the sky, but here in the mountains, flurries could turn to blizzards within minutes. He had everything he needed—dawdling would be a bad idea.

Shifting the now full and rather heavy rucksack, Matt started back towards where he’d left the snowmobile as quickly as he was able. Halfway there, he spotted a familiar, large white shape outside one of the shops he’d visited.

“Kuma!” the blond called, making the bear lift his head and twitch his ears. The townspeople who’d been petting him were forgotten as Kuma ran towards his master. “Whoa, whoa, Kuma, stop!”

Thick black claws scraped against the ground as the polar slid to a halt just inches short of knocking Matthew to the ground. His mouth hung open and his tongue lolled out as he practically grinned for having scared the boy.

Matthew sighed in relief and petted the animal before scratching behind Kuma’s ears and under his chin. “Good boy. Did you see your friends?” Together, human and bear walked side-by-side to the snowmobile. Kuma’s response to the question was a happy-sounding rumble that made Matt smile. Of course the bear had enjoyed his trip down the mountain. He hadn’t gotten to go while Matthew was away at school—his mother didn’t let the bear tag along because he didn’t listen to her like he listened to Matthew. So he’d been limited to their chunk of the mountain, and that wasn’t as much space as he liked to have to run.

“Race you back to the top,” Matthew challenged as he settled on the snowmobile’s black seat, and Kuma was gone, running as fast as his four legs would carry him up the road. Polar bears were fast, but once Matt got the engine going and started after his friend, he caught up quickly and passed Kuma, spraying him with a bit of snow as he did.

“See you at home!”

An indignant roar at having been hit with the snow was the only response he got, but Matthew was grinning. His scarf was over his face again, and his goggles were down, and he thought he’d left just in time to get home before the real storm set in. It would be his job to put away all the groceries and supplies he’d just bought once he got back to the cabin, and by the time he finished that, Kuma would be back. The bear would be soaked from running in the snow, but he had a special spot in the front hall where he could curl up and dry off in the warmth. Then he’d be free to roam the house, and Matthew thought it would be nice to use the polar bear as a pillow for a few hours while he read a book or watched a movie.

Of course, if Kuma got bored, he’d make a nuisance of himself by bumping Matt’s arms or nudging his wet nose into the blond’s ear, which always interrupted whatever Matthew was doing for at least a minute. That would be okay, though. Winter break was almost over, and soon he would go back to the airport to return to school for the spring semester. He was looking forward to seeing his brother, hugging Francis again and joking around with Gilbert. He would miss his mother, of course, and Kuma, but he’d gotten used to a life surrounded by other people. The isolation of the Canadian wilderness, while still familiar and comfortable, was almost too quiet for him now.

Strange.


	29. Chapter 29

This wasn’t happening. It was surreal. There was no way.

All the bags were packed and loaded in the car. They’d eaten lunch and had helped clean up the kitchen. Now it was time for Gilbert and Ludwig to go back to school for the spring semester. The only thing left to do was say goodbye to their parents. Gilbert had hugged his mother and promised to let her know when he and his blond brother had reached their campus so that she would know the icy roads hadn’t gotten the best of her sons. It wasn’t an abnormal exchange for them. What Gilbert was having trouble registering and understanding was the fact that when he’d gone to shake his father’s hand, the tall blond man had hugged him instead.

He couldn’t remember the last time his father had hugged him. When he was a boy, maybe, before Ludwig had been born or while he was still an infant. Certainly not since his brother had gotten old enough to become their father’s favorite. Hugs just didn’t happen between himself and his father. That’s just how it was. But there he was, standing on the front porch, all bundled up against the cold, with his father’s arms wrapped around him in a tight hug that was a little awkward just because it wasn’t what he was used to.

Surprise at the affectionate gesture made Gilbert wait nearly five seconds before he came to his senses and somewhat hesitantly hugged his father. The arms around him tightened just slightly and Gilbert couldn’t help the dumb-founded look on his face.

Wow. This was really happening. His father was hugging him. He was hugging his father. They hadn’t fought in days and now this. Unbelievable. It was nothing like hugging his mother, of course, because she was small and rather narrow-framed and always hugged him around the neck to force him down to her height. His father was broad-shouldered and muscular and hugging him was like hugging a bear. But it was warm, and genuine, and Gilbert found that even though it had seemed impossible and awkward at first, he was enjoying it. He didn’t want to, but he forced himself to pull away after a few more moments, offering an uncertain but hopeful grin to the taller male.

“ _Auf Wiedersehen, Vater._ ”

Clapping him on the shoulder, his father walked the few steps with him to the car and smiled at both of his sons. “ _Auf Wiedersehen,_ Gilbert, Ludvig.”

“ _Auf Wiedersehen._ ” Looking more than a little pleased at how well the day was going, Ludwig waved at their parents before settling in the driver’s seat as Gilbert did the same on the other side of the car. Moments later they were out of the driveway and off down the street, their house and parents quickly disappearing from view though both boys knew they would stand on the porch for a few minutes, at least.

For a while, the only sound was the car’s engine. Ludwig kept his eyes on the road and Gilbert was too busy staring off into space to start a conversation. His father had hugged him and it had been _nice._ How the hell was he supposed to react to this?

“Zhat vas nice,” Ludwig eventually broke the near silence, pale eyes glancing sideways at his brother. “Visiting home for so long. But it’ll be good to be back at school.”

“ _Ja._ ” Still distracted by his thoughts, Gilbert murmured his agreement barely loud enough for the blond to hear. When it finally occurred to him that Ludwig hadn’t seen Feliciano in weeks, he sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “Do you vant zhe room tonight?” he asked, knowing that he didn’t have to go into specifics for Ludwig to understand why he was asking. The blond hummed thoughtfully as he considered it, then shook his head.

“ _Nein,_ zhat vouldn’t be fair to you. Besides, I’m sure Feliciano vould like to see you, too.”

“ _Ja,_ just as long as he doesn’t bring zhat asshole _bruder_ of his.”

Ludwig grimaced but quickly covered it up. “Lovino isn’t an asshole, he just…” Pausing, the younger of the two brothers tried to come up with a polite way to explain the moody Italian’s unpleasant behavior. “He’s…like you, actually.”

Taken aback, Gilbert jerked before turning offended red eyes on the other. “ _Vhat?_ ”

An uneasy but slightly amused grin spread across Ludwig’s features. “Feliciano told me zhat Lovino used to get sick a lot as a _kind,_ so he vas left out _und_ not as vell-liked as Feli. He grew up zhinking no vone liked him because he isn’t as cheerful as Feliciano is _und_ zhat it vould be useless to try to make friends. At least, zhat’s vhat Feli zhinks.”

“ _Und_ vhy vould zhat remind you of me?” Gilbert was still a little offended to have been compared to Lovino, seeing as he didn’t get along with the foul-mouthed brunet even a little bit.

Eyes leaving the road, Ludwig gave the albino to his right a knowing look. One of his blond eyebrows was lifted and he’d tilted his head a little. It was a look that said, “We both know exactly why.” But Gilbert ignored it—no way would he ever agree that he was like Lovino.

“Because not long ago, I had a _bruder_ who smoked _und_ drank to excess. He picked fights, skipped class, _und_ had a personal grudge against zhe vorld. _Und_ he vas sure zhat his _vater_ vould never like him because of his _kleinen bruder._ ”

Even though Ludwig was watching the road again, Gilbert felt like someone was looking at him. The way he’d been acting all that time sounded stupid when his blond brother said it like that. It sounded stupid and lame and completely not awesome. How had he ever thought acting that way was awesome? Now was definitely better. He was happier.

Resurfacing from his self-evaluation, Gilbert noticed that Ludwig was smiling and glancing over at him every other second.

“Vhat?” His tone was a little more impatient than he meant for it to be.

Blue eyes met red; Ludwig’s smile grew and he finally settled his gaze on the road again.

“Nozhing.”

Well that was annoying as all hell. Gilbert didn’t push it, though. There would be a little point in trying to get something out of someone with as much self-control as Ludwig. It’d take him days to make any progress and by then he’d be too bored to care, anyway. He might as well let it go now.

But he still wasn’t going to admit that he was like Lovino.

x

“Mattie!”

The sound of his name being shouted startled Matthew so much that he jumped and nearly dropped his phone. He’d been turning off the Airplane Mode as he and the other passengers left the plane and exited the terminal. Now someone was calling to him.

“Matt! Over here!”

He recognized that voice, and when he turned to follow it, he was unsurprised to spot his energetic older half-brother. The sight of Alfred, grinning and waving, put a smile on the blond Canadian’s face. It slipped a little in the next moment, however, when he noticed who Alfred was standing with. His chest tightened and his hands went slack as every nerve in his body fired warning signals. It was only for a couple of seconds, though, and then his smile was back, and he walked towards the small group with as much confidence as he could manage.

“Alfred.” His bag was set down and he hugged the taller blond, smiling when he was squeezed and lifted slightly.

Grinning widely, Alfred set his younger brother on his feet again then pulled away. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine, but what are you doing here?” Matthew asked, picking his bag up once more and settling the long strap over his shoulder.

“Getting you, of course! Didn’t you get my text?”

Matt lifted his phone and shook it a little. “ _Pas de téléphone dans les avions,_ ” he teased, enjoying the blank look on Alfred’s face a little more than he probably should have. “Airplane mode, Al.”

“Oh.” Now the blue-eyed blond was slightly embarrassed. “Right.”

“I was just going to take a Taxi, but thank you for coming.” With a polite smile, Matthew looked at the two people standing just behind Alfred. “George,” he greeted, and the man’s gentle smile became a grin.

Blond hair that was styled much the same way Alfred’s was, but pushed back away from his forehead. He had glasses, and gray-blue eyes. His grin was easy and relaxed and everything about his attire said “well-off business man, thank you.” George Jones was very obviously Alfred’s father.

“Please, Matt, I’m your dad, not your boss,” he joked, reaching out to pat Matthew’s shoulder.

Less obviously, he was Matt’s father, too.

“Sorry.” It was only his third time meeting the man who had turned out to be his father, and Matt was already sure he would never get used to calling anyone “Dad.” He knew George wanted him to. The American wanted to be the father he never was to Matthew while he was growing up, but the idea of even having a dad was still too new for Matt. It was progress that he’d called the man “George” rather than “Mr. Jones” this time, which was impressive considering he’d been surprised to see him.

And then, of course, there was her. Mrs. Jones, Alfred’s mother. Looking at her, Matthew couldn’t understand how George had supposedly fallen in love with two very different people.

His mother was dark-haired and her skin displayed the native blood in her veins. Her features were delicate, and her eyes were green. Matthew had gotten all of his looks from George, though the man obviously spent more time in the sun than Matt did and so had tanned his pale skin. It wasn’t hard to believe that they were related.

But for everything Matt’s mother was in appearance, Mrs. Jones was everything else. Sleek, platinum blond hair was braided back into a low ponytail. Her eyes shone even bluer than Alfred’s, and her skin was a carefully even shade of golden that she obviously put effort into. Her features were graceful, and even in a flowing skirt and loose top, her slender curves were obvious. Matt’s mom didn’t have curves—she worked too hard.

No wonder Alfred had turned out to be so handsome, with parents like these. Standing next to him, Matthew was starting to think he knew how the Ugly Duckling felt.

“Hello,” he was careful to keep his tone calm and controlled, and he smiled politely. “I’m Matthew Williams.” Manners told him to offer his hand, but hers were clasped behind her back, and the way she was looking at him made him worry that if he offered his hand, he might not get it back. It wasn’t that she looked angry, exactly, just…cold. Kind of calculating. She was sizing him up and Matthew felt like a piece of meat.

“Elizabeth,” George said quietly, his tone almost pleading, and she smiled a moment later. It didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hi, Matthew. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Now she held her hand out, and Matthew tentatively accepted it. Her grip was firm to the point of almost being painful, like she was trying to intimidate him, and he couldn’t be surprised or even confused as to why.

He’d been nervous to meet her for this exact reason. He was the proof that George had been unfaithful to her, and even though that wasn’t his fault and he really had nothing to do with it, he was the physical representation of it. There was no reason for her to be friendly to him. It wasn’t something he’d discussed with Alfred, because who would want to admit that their mom might be mean and nasty to their own little brother? Elizabeth wasn’t being mean or nasty, but she definitely wasn’t welcoming. Everything about her said cold, careful preparation and perfection. She was put together and clean. Matt had the feeling that her closet was probably organized by season and color and that not a single speck of dust was allowed in her house. How Alfred had managed to become so messy, he’d never know, but maybe that was why his older brother took so long to start cleaning up after himself. Maybe college had been freedom from an overbearing mother.

_Maybe that’s why George liked Mom. Maybe Mom was freedom, too._

Matthew tried not to let that thought show in his expression, and made sure his smile was genuine as the handshake continued. Now definitely wasn’t the time to make her think he was judging her.

When Mrs. Jones did let go of his hand, he made sure to smile at her a little before turning his attention back to Alfred, the only person here he was actually comfortable around. “Are we going straight to school?”

“Almost. Here—let me get that.” Alfred didn’t wait for an answer before taking Matt’s bag from him and carrying it. As a group, the four began making their way through the airport towards the sky walk that would take them to the parking garage. Skipping the baggage claim was just a perk that Matthew had been careful to plan for. Carry-on bags were easier, and no way was he going to risk losing his luggage. So they didn’t have to worry about the hassle of finding a suitcase amid the dozens of people already headed to the floor below.

It gave him a certain amount of pride to know he’d successfully planned ahead.

“Almost?” Matthew readjusted his backpack straps on his shoulders as they walked. “Where else are we going?”

“To get dinner.” The taller blond flashed a grin. “Dad’s treat to welcome you back.”

“Oh.” Looking back over his shoulder, the Canadian smiled at his father. “Thank you.” There was genuine gratitude in his voice that Matt really hoped George and Elizabeth would pick up on. No way did he want them to think he wasn’t grateful for everything they’d done for him. His passport, the plane tickets to bring him here, his tuition and housing, and now picking him up from the airport and taking him to dinner like he was part of the family.

_Part of the family._

Wow, he’d never really thought of it that way, but it was the truth. This was his family. Maybe not the one he was used to, but it was a family all the same. And even though Alfred was only a half-brother, and they hadn’t known each other for very long yet, he was pretty attached to the blue-eyed blond. If anything were to happen to Alfred, Matthew wasn’t sure what he’d do. The only thing he was certain of was that it would be devastating to lose such a good big brother.

Matthew subconsciously drew closer to Alfred at that thought, almost wanting to reach out and touch the American, hold onto his sleeve so he wouldn’t go anywhere. It was strange, this feeling of needing to be close to someone other than his mother, and really he didn’t have this feeling about her. She was strong and independent, like she’d always been. There had never been a time when Matt hadn’t been sure if she was going to come home or not. Her support had never been in question. But Alfred had been a pain at first. His friends had been a pain. It was surprising to think back and realize that he went from cleaning up after the older blond to fearing the day that he wouldn’t be around anymore.

“So,” startling Matthew out of his thoughts, Alfred slung an arm around the slightly shorter boy’s shoulders and grinned, “where d’you wanna eat? This’ your party, bro.”

Crud. He didn’t know any of the restaurants around here.

“Um, you pick.” He smiled and bumped Alfred playfully. “You should get to, for coming to get me. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Awww!” Tightening his arm to draw his little brother closer, Alfred ruffled Matt’s hair while making sure to avoid the Canadian’s curl. “You’re a sweetheart, Mattie. Francis is a lucky guy,” the older of the two teased, his tone making it obvious that he didn’t just mean because Matthew was nice—it made the Canadian blush a little.

Even though he was smiling, Matt couldn’t help but feel a spike of nervousness when he realized Alfred had said that within earshot of the adults walking behind them. He hadn’t told George he was attracted to boys, and he hadn’t known if Alfred was out to his parents. But if the blue-eyed college student could so casually mention Francis like that, then he must be, and they must be okay with it. At least, he hoped so. Things were going to get really awkward really fast if George and Elizabeth weren’t comfortable with homosexuality.

Man, he wished Alfred could speak French so he could ask about it without the adults walking just behind them knowing. This was probably a situation most siblings found themselves in at some time or another, though maybe not about such a sensitive topic.

_I’ll ask him later,_ he decided, reassuring himself that he didn’t need to worry about anything until then. Al’s mention of Francis being a lucky guy had gone without comment, so chances were that George didn’t care, or at least that he and Elizabeth were too polite to say anything about it. And maybe that just meant that it would be brought up later when they weren’t in public, but he still wasn’t going to worry about it. Geor—his dad had been perfectly kind and accepting and welcoming towards him so far, and he didn’t want to spoil that for himself.

It could wait. For now, he was just going to enjoy the energetic American he’d missed so much over break.


	30. Chapter 30

“You ready, Mattie?” Alfred shrugged on his coat and zipped it up, already standing by the door.

On his own side of the room, Matthew finished tucking away a shirt then closed the dresser drawer. “Yep.” He was smiling as he picked up his coat from the back of his desk chair and crossed the few feet to the door.

With Alfred in the lead, the two left their dorm and were soon in the elevator, on their way to the lobby. By the time they got there, Matthew had his coat on and zipped up, as well as a hat pulled down to protect his ears. Still, the cold made him shiver as they left the dorm hall, and he was quick to shove his hands even deeper into his pockets.

They were on their way to Alfred’s car, which they’d left in the nearest parking lot while they unpacked even though that was technically against the rules. But unpacking hadn’t taken them that long, and there was no one waiting for their spot, so they weren’t worried about it. No way were they going to waste the time it would have taken to go park it somewhere else, walk back to unpack, then walk all the way back out to it. This was much faster, and with how cold it was, definitely preferable.

Only once the two blonds were safely in the car with the doors shut and the heater started did Matthew dare to gather up his nerve.

It was just Alfred. There was no reason to be nervous.

“So, Alfred,” he began, examining the hem of his coat sleeve where a bit of string was loose—he was going to have to cut it if he didn’t want it to snag on anything, “how do your parents feel about…us?”

Busy with putting his car in the right gear, Alfred only spared a glance at the other boy. “What, like, as brothers? That we’re great. Dad loves you.” He laughed a little. “You’re his kid, dude. Course he loves you. Still super glad you agreed to come down here for school. Hey, do I get to come see where you grew up sometime? I think that’d be really cool.”

Matthew had to take a moment to process all of that before he could come up with an answer. “Oh, um, maybe. I can ask Mom if that’d be okay.”

Grinning widely, Alfred carefully drove down the snowy streets towards the local pizza place. “Awesome.”

Silence filled the vehicle for a few moments before Matthew decided to try again. “How are things going with Arthur?”

The slightest of blushes came onto the other boy’s cheeks and Alfred shifted his grip on the steering wheel. “They’re great. Better than great. He’s back from England so he’ll be there with the others.” He meant, of course, that Arthur would meet them at the pizza place like their other friends. It was the agreed upon time and location for them all to meet up and hang out for the first time for the semester. Everyone was supposed to be there, and the closer they got, the jitterier Matthew began to feel.

He was about to see Francis for the first time in weeks. What would the Frenchman do? Probably something overly sweet and a little embarrassing, but that Matthew would thoroughly enjoy. That was just how Francis was, and it wouldn’t stop him at all that all their other friends would be there, too.

_Including Gilbert._

Right. The albino had been back on campus longer than Alfred and Matthew had, and he’d agreed to come get pizza, too. And Matt was a little guilty about how excited he was to see him. Shouldn’t he be more excited to see Francis?

“We’re here!” Alfred’s enthusiastic announcement didn’t let Matt go any deeper into examining his feelings, so he pushed them aside for later. Now was for having fun—no reason to get stuck inside his own head.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as Alfred parked the car and then as they walked the short distance to the pizza parlor’s front door. The blast of warm air from inside was definitely welcome, and helped to distract him a little bit.

“Al! Matt! Over here!” Antonio’s voice reached them, causing both blonds to turn and look. The Spaniard was seated in one of the larger round booths, along with Arthur, Francis, Ivan, and Yao. It was barely a second before Alfred was striding over to the booth and reaching around to grab hold of Arthur, and then the Brit was being pulled to his feet despite his protests.

“Oi, what’re you--!” Instead of finishing his sentence, Arthur fell silent as he was hugged, lifted, and firmly kissed by Alfred in front of the entire restaurant. His eyes were wide at first, and his face quickly turned pink and was darkening to red. Feet hanging above the floor and with Alfred’s arms securely wrapped around his waist, there was nowhere for the green-eyed college student to go. So, as his friends grinned and chuckled, he returned his bespectacled boyfriend’s embrace and let his eyes close as he finally started to kiss back. That made Alfred grin, and he kept kissing the other blond for several more seconds before Francis rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Let ‘im breazhe, Alfred,” he teased, and the two almost instantly broke apart, now both flushing.

Shy now, Alfred set Arthur on his feet and smiled down at him. “Hi.”

Arthur tried to look stern even though he was smiling, too. “You’re lucky you’re cute, or you’d be in big trouble.”

The taller blond chuckled and exchanged his hold on Arthur’s waist for one on his hand. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Still flushed and embarrassed, Arthur resumed his seat and Alfred settled right next to him, still holding the Brit’s hand under the table.

“ _Matthieu._ ”

The quiet sound of his name captured Matt’s attention, and he tore his gaze from his half-brother to find Francis smiling at him. Immediately, pink from something other than the cold outside tinged his cheeks.

“Hi, Francis,” he greeted the older boy shyly, tucking his chin towards his collarbone and smiling.

Graceful as ever, Francis slid around the table until he could stand, then pulled Matthew into a gentle but warm hug. “’ello, _mon cher,_ ” he whispered into the younger blond’s ear as Matt loosely wrapped his arms around the Frenchman’s neck.

The anxiety and worry that had plagued Matthew in the car now came back at full force. Francis—elegant, caring, wonderful Francis—was happy to see him and was hugging him, and he still wasn’t…happy. He was, though. He was glad to see him and the others, and he was enjoying the hug because Francis gave wonderful, comforting hugs, but it wasn’t anything like what Alfred had done to Arthur. The American hadn’t even seemed to hesitate; he’d just grabbed Arthur and kissed him like it was all he wanted to do. Matthew wasn’t sure if he was relieved Francis hadn’t kissed him, or if he was a little bit jealous of Arthur that Francis hadn’t kissed him.

But he didn’t want to betray his inner conflict, so he pushed those mixed feelings down as deep as he could, then lightly nuzzled Francis’ cheek.

“Missed you,” he murmured, which was true, then drew back as Francis did the same.

“ _Oui._ ” With a gentle smile, the older blond cupped Matthew’s cheek in his hand then kissed the Canadian’s forehead. “I missed you, as well.”

There was no helping the darker pink that began taking over Matt’s face, though it was made worse a second later by Alfred clearing his throat.

“You’re being a lot sappier than I was, Francis,” the bespectacled blond pointed out, now with an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “Quit wooing my brother and sit down so we can order our drinks.”

Turning, Francis slipped an arm around Matt’s waist and pulled the Canadian close, smiling at Alfred. “But ‘e ‘as already been wooed, _oui?_ ” Matthew hid his face out of embarrassment while Alfred rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Can we order now?”

Good-natured as always, Francis merely nodded before guiding Matt into the booth. He sat first, moving back to his original spot, and Matthew settled beside him so there was still an empty seat on his right. That was where Gilbert would sit when he arrived.

Oh, no, he was going to be stuck sitting between them. It would be like his internal battles were being acted out in real life. What if he paid too much attention to Gilbert, and Francis got jealous? Or if he tried to avoid that so he practically ignored Gilbert, and the albino felt like he was intruding so he left?

_How am I going to do this?_

His worrying must have been obvious, because something nudged his shin under the table, and he looked up to find Alfred watching him. One of his older brother’s eyebrows quirked up and he smiled reassuringly as if he knew exactly what Matt had been thinking. That was impossible, but it still made him feel better to know Alfred was at least trying to support him.

“So, _cher,_ ‘ow was your ‘oliday?” With a smile, Francis relaxed against the back of the booth and draped his arm around Matt’s shoulders much the way Alfred was doing to Arthur.

Matt did his best to smile and relaxed into the older blond’s side. “It was good. Mom and Kuma were happy to see me.”

Interest lit Francis’ blue eyes. “Kuma?”

“Kumajiro,” Matthew responded without stopping to think about what he was about to say, “he’s my polar bear.”

Immediately, silence fell over the table. Even those who hadn’t been part of the conversation were staring at him. Antonio’s mouth was hanging open a little. Alfred was looking at him as if he’d lost his mind, as was Arthur. Yao had paused with his glass of water halfway to his mouth, and Ivan was frowning to himself as if he was sure he’d made that up in his head and couldn’t quite figure out why.

“You ‘ave a polar bear?” Francis clarified, disbelief coloring his tone.

Had he not mentioned Kuma to them before? Oops.

“Yeah, he lives with my mom.”

Across the table, Alfred shook his head and waved both hands in the air. “Back up. You have a polar bear? A real, live, _polar bear?_ ”

Matthew nodded, now starting to feel more than a little self-conscious because of the way they were all looking at him. “I raised him from a cub.”

“Really?” Antonio had finally regained control of his jaw. “That sounds like something out of a movie.”

“Yeah,” Alfred agreed, grinning, “imagine Mattie rescuing baby animals and raising them in his mountain cabin. He could ride a moose he raised and be like the King of the Mountain with his army of wild animals.”

The description put a blush on Matthew’s cheeks but Francis was quick to squeeze his shoulders.

“I zhink you’d look _magnifique_ as King of zhe Mountain, wizh your moose steed,” he whispered, only partially teasing. Matthew couldn’t help but look down at his lap in an attempt to hide the way he was blushing.

“ _Merci,_ ” he mumbled, and Francis kissed his cheek.

“ _Soyez le bienvenu._ ”

Not until he was sure his face had returned to its normal color did Matt look up, and he found that the situation hadn’t really improved all that much. His friends were all still looking at him, expectant and quiet as if he’d just promised to tell them a secret.

“What?” he asked, not sure why he was being stared at.

“Tell us the story.” Alfred took his arm from around Arthur’s shoulders and folded them on the tabletop, leaning his weight forward on his elbows. “Tell us how you found Kumajiro and raised him.”

Oh, right, of course.

Relieved that that was all they wanted, Matt smiled and relaxed against Francis again. “I found him when I was thirteen. He was less than a year old—too young to be away from his mother—and there were no other tracks in sight, so I took him home. Mom wasn’t happy,” he had to smile as he remembered the fit she’d thrown over him bringing a polar bear cub into the house, “but she warmed up to him.”

“Varmed up to who?”

Matthew jumped at the sudden question, turning and looking up to find Gilbert coming towards the table as he pulled off his gloves. In the next instant, he was out of the booth and tripping over his own feet in his hurry.

“Gil!” Unable to help his wide smile, Matt threw his arms around the taller boy in a hug and even nuzzled into his chest a little as Gilbert hugged him back.

“ _Hallo,_ Matzhew,” the albino murmured, squeezing him slightly before letting him go. “How are you?”

Still smiling and now a little flushed from his momentary rush, Matthew let his arms hang loose at his sides and looked up at familiar red eyes. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the Prussian until just now, and his excitement made it a little difficult to keep from hugging Gilbert again. “I’m good. You?”

“Better zhan usual.”

That answer sparked the Canadian’s curiosity. “Did something happen?”

“ _Ja,_ but I’ll tell you later.” Gilbert placed his hands on Matt’s shoulders and turned him towards the table. “For now, I vant pizza.” With a gentle push, he guided the younger student forward so Matthew could sit by Francis again, then Gil occupied the seat beside him. Friendly, he looked around the table and nodded in greeting. “I hope everyvone had a good Christmas.”

Various affirmations were made that Christmas break had been a good one, then Alfred sat up a little and waved to the servers to let them know the table was ready to order. “Buffet or pizzas?” he asked, watching a teenaged waitress in black and red approach their booth.

“Pizzas,” was the automatic response from the rest of the group.

Alfred grinned at the waitress. “A large cheese and a large supreme, stuffed crusts, please.”

She took a moment to write that down before pointing at the newer arrivals wither pen. “Drinks?”

“Sodas.”

Matthew lifted his hand shyly. “Just water for me, please.”

Her attention went back to her little notepad as she added the drinks. “Okay, got it. I’ll be right back with your cups.” She smiled then walked away, back towards the front counter to get cups and turn in their order.

“So,” Alfred barely waited five seconds before looking at his half-brother, “tell us more about Kuma. I can’t believe you never told me about him before.”

“Kuma?” Questioning red eyes found Matthew’s face, and he smiled embarrassedly.

“Kuma’s my polar bear,” he said in answer to Gilbert’s silent curiosity. “I rescued him as a cub and raised him. He lives with my mom.”

“Really?” The albino was clearly impressed. “I never knew zhat.”

“I didn’t know you’d want to know.”

Alfred snorted, drawing the attention of his fellow students. “You have a polar bear. Why wouldn’t we want to know about that?”

All eyes turned back to Matthew and he shrugged simply because he didn’t know what else to do. It had never occurred to him that his friends might want to know about Kuma. They’d never really asked about where he came from or what Canada was like or how his and Al’s dad had met their moms, so he’d never brought it up. Gilbert knew a little bit about Whistler, like how small it was, but not much else. Nothing about his house other than that it was a cabin on a mountain. He didn’t talk about his mom or where he’d gone to high school—he’d only had a couple of friends, and no one he was particularly close to. The cabin was too far away from Whistler for him to go there whenever he felt like it. His mom had been his best friend, other than Kuma.

“I guess I thought it would be kind of weird,” he admitted in his usual soft tones. “Most people talk about the things their friends did in high school. I didn’t want to be the weird one who talks about his polar bear.”

“Okay.” Alfred shifted his weight on his forearms and looked at Matthew over the tops of his glasses, eyebrows raised. “Replace ‘weird’ with ‘awesome’ and that statement’ll be way more accurate.” The agreements that followed his response put a light blush on Matt’s cheeks.

“Um. Okay.” He couldn’t help but be embarrassed. No one but Gilbert had ever told him he was awesome before, so the compliment was welcome but unexpected. Luckily, Francis didn’t waste a moment before wrapping his arms around the younger blond and pulling him into a warm hug.

“’e’s right, you know,” the Frenchman murmured with a smile before kissing Matthew’s cheek, and Matt felt his face growing warmer as it reddened. His eyes dropped to the lacquered surface of the table and he fidgeted, his hands hidden in his lap.

“ _Merci…mais… il est étrange d’entendre…_ ”

His soft-spoken admittance did nothing but widen Francis’ smile. “Zhen we will ‘ave to get you more accustomed to compliments, _cher._ ”

Matthew nodded slightly and glanced up long enough to see that everyone else was still looking at him, smiling and amused by his shy reaction. That was all he managed to see before his gaze returned to his own lap and he focused on trying to get his face back to its normal color. Blushing like this in front of all of his friends wasn’t something he ever really enjoyed, though he couldn’t deny that he was pleased by their apparent opinion of him. They thought he was awesome. A few months ago, they hadn’t said a word to each other, and now he was out to get pizza and catch up on what had gone on with them during the weeks away. If someone had told him back then that Alfred was going to be a protective, supportive big brother, that he would be dating Francis, and that he was friends with all these people, he would have quietly disagreed and dismissed the thought entirely.

If so much of his life could change in just a few months, even after the huge change he’d gone through over last summer, then the spring semester was almost definitely going to be more than a little interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ROUGH) TRANSLATIONS:
> 
> Merci…mais… il est étrange d’entendre…  
> French: Thanks...but...it is strange to hear...


	31. Chapter 31

Unsure, Matthew wavered by the door as he watched Alfred move around their room. “Are you sure you don’t want help?” he asked, not for the first time that day.

Too busy making his bed to look up, the older blond merely nodded. “I got this. Only fair, since you cleaned up after me way back when.”

The memories of that day almost made Matt shudder. Old food, wrappers, dirty clothes—he was more than happy with how much cleaner his brother was these days.

“Besides,” Alfred kept talking while he arranged his pillows, “I should clean it if it’s my boyfriend who’s coming over.”

Fair enough.

“All right. I’ll see you later, then,” the quieter student said by way of farewell, his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll text you when it’s safe to come back.”

“Okay.” He tried not to think of the implications behind that, just waved a little and left the dorm with his coat on and his bag over his shoulder. No way did he want to imagine what might be going on in his dorm while he was gone.

So he made the journey across campus towards Gilbert’s dorm hall, his attention focused on the sky. It was turning colors now that the sun was starting to go down, and Matthew thought the way the orange and pink and yellow reflected off the clouds, with a backdrop of darkening blue, was just short of stunning. This was just one of the things he really loved about winter—the snow and clouds somehow made the colors seem that much brighter—and he spent the entirety of his walk admiring it. He was almost sorry that it only took him a few minutes to reach his destination, though he cheered up quickly enough to think he was going to spend the evening with Gilbert.

With that thought replacing those of the sunset, the blond pulled the dorm hall’s front door open and went inside. Straight to the elevator then up, along a familiar hallway to an equally familiar door; he knocked.

“ _Herein,_ ” a voice sounded through the wood, and even though Matthew didn’t know what the word meant, he recognized the tone and opened the door. The sight of Gilbert on the futon put a smile on his face before he’d even stepped into the dorm.

“Hi,” he greeted somewhat shyly, shutting the door behind himself.

Grinning, the older boy patted the spot next to him. “ _Hallo._ ”

Matt didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation, and kicked his shoes off by the door before moving across the room and sitting beside the albino. “What’s going on?”

“Just vaiting for you. But how come you aren’t vizh Francis?”

“He’s studying tonight so he won’t be distracted during our date tomorrow,” the younger blond explained as he settled his bag on the floor and pulled his feet up underneath himself. “And Arthur’s in my room with Alfred. Thanks for letting me come over.”

Gilbert sniggered a little but was quick to cover it up. “ _Ja,_ no problem.”

Trying not to roll his eyes, Matthew shrugged out of his coat and put it aside before settling back against the futon. “So, tell me about your break. I know there’s more to it than what you said at the pizza place.” He smiled at the older student as Gilbert looked back at him in amusement.

“Sometimes I forget how vell you know me.”

“Lucky you,” the blond teased, earning a chuckle from his friend, then his expression became serious. “How was your break, really?”

Faint traces of a smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth, Gilbert made himself comfortable before responding. “It vas good.”

There was something in the older boy’s tone that sparked Matthew’s curiosity. “Did something happen?” It wasn’t like Gilbert to be so vague—he usually enjoyed telling stories about himself, especially good ones.

“ _Ja._ ” Gaze lowered thoughtfully, the albino smiled to himself. “My _vater_ vas nice to me.”

It took a second for the full meaning of that simple statement to sink in, but when it did, Matt couldn’t contain his surprise. “He was? Really? Why? What happened?” The questions poured out before he could stop them, and the older boy let out a short laugh.

“ _Ja,_ really. He even hugged me before Lud _und_ I came back.”

“Wow.” His astonishment was replaced by a smile and Matt touched his companion’s arm. “That’s great, Gil,” the blond commented sincerely, his hand warm against the other male’s skin.

“ _Danke._ It vas veird, but nice.” The memory seemed to amuse him as he paused. “Ve fought, like alvays, but zhen he…vas nice.” He was obviously still surprised by it. “I’m sure my mozher or Ludvig vas behind it. Anyvay, zhings are probably going to be better at home now. I’m kind of looking forvard to it.”

Matthew gave Gilbert’s arm a gentle squeeze before he took his hand back. “I’m happy for you. That’s really great.”

The older boy nodded, lost in thought, then blinked and smiled. “Right. Vhat about you? Break vas good?”

Nodding, Matt shifted on the futon so he was angled towards Gilbert. “It was good to see Mom after so long, and Kuma.”

“Did you get to see any friends?”

“Ah,” the blond smiled embarrassedly, “I didn’t really have any friends back home.” Hadn’t they talked about this before? Probably not, now that he actually thought about it. No one had known about Kuma until this week, after all. “Since Mom and I lived up on the mountain, I didn’t have a lot of time to hang out in Whistler.”

Now it was Gilbert’s turn to notice a shift in the Canadian’s tone. “Matt?” He’d already known that the blond lived in the mountains with his mother, but he thought for sure that someone so polite and likeable would’ve had high school friends to visit.

“What?”

_He vas bullied._

The memory of hanging out at the rocks, the day those two boys had walked by and Gil had almost gotten into a fight with them, blocked out reality for a moment. He’d almost forgotten about it, but suddenly he couldn’t shake the feeling that Matthew had quite a few experiences like that one. It made him angry to think that anyone could be mean to the younger student.

Except he’d done it, too, so he was no better than anyone else who had ever bullied the Canadian.

_I apologized._

There was that, at least. So he wasn’t quite as bad as everyone else.

He wanted to ask what happened to make sure Matthew wasn’t upset by it, and to know how the blond had dealt with it. If it’d been possible, he’d have considered going there and teaching the bastards a lesson. That would probably have made him feel better. But he didn’t ask. Matthew probably didn’t want to talk about it.

Coming out of his own head, Gilbert finally noticed that the younger boy was looking at him in concern. “Sorry,” he apologized, flashing a grin. “Lost in zhought.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Imagining you playing vizh a polar bear.” The lie came off his tongue easily enough, and then his tone became teasing. “I bet he could knock you down even as a cub.”

Matt’s forehead creased in a confused frown. “Of course he could. He wasn’t a newborn when I found him—I could barely pick him up.”

Well, he’d obviously missed that joke.

“Never mind. How big is he now?”

“He’s fully grown, but he’s smaller than most males, since he was abandoned.”

“Zhat makes sense.” But it didn’t tell him how big Kuma was. “How tall vould you say he is?”

“Um…a little under three meters, I suppose,” the blond mused, putting his hand to his chin as he looked towards the ceiling. “Maybe two and a half.”

Meters? Gilbert hadn’t thought in meters since he was kid. How did meters compare to feet, again?

“…nine feet. Damn.” He couldn’t keep the slight admiration out of his tone once he figured out the approximate numbers. “How do you feed him? He must eat a ton. Vhere does he sleep?”

Smiling because he hadn’t expected anyone to be this interested in Kumajiro, Matthew turned to lean back against the futon’s armrest so he was facing the older boy. Gilbert was quick to copy him, his entire being giving off expectant signals.

“Polar bears usually live on the ice in the Arctic Circle and hunt seals,” the Canadian began. “That’s why it’s really odd that I found Kuma. We think he followed his mother south in search of food and she starved or was killed by a hunter.” Either possibility put a sad light in Matt’s eyes; clearly, he didn’t like to think about the mother bear dying. “I found him on my way home form Whistler and took him with me.”

Gilbert sported a wide grin. “Only you vould find a vild animal _und_ take it home like a stray cat,” he teased lightly, and Matthew blushed as he looked down shyly.

“He was hungry and all alone. I couldn’t just leave him.”

“ _Nein,_ of course you couldn’t.” The older boy reached across the space between them and ruffled Matt’s hair, his grin still firmly in place. “He’s a lucky bear.”

Matthew gave an embarrassed smile. “He is pretty spoiled. We might not have any seals for him to eat, but the whole town chips in to feed him, and he takes up most of my bed.”

_He sleeps vizh a polar bear._ Of course. Of course he did.

“Like I said, he’s lucky.”

“Yeah.”

A semi-comfortable quiet took over the dorm as the two students sat with their own thoughts. For Matt, he wasn’t sure what to say next. He never really was, when it came to Gilbert, but lately it’d been worse than normal. All he could think about was that, before, they’d have sat next to each other, shoulders touching, maybe leaning on each other a little, not across the futon like they were now. They’d been like this for weeks but he still didn’t like it. He missed having the albino’s arm around his shoulders while they watched scary movies that he hated and loved at the same time. He liked Francis’ arm, too, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t as thick or heavy or warm as Gil’s.

_You can’t cuddle with him. You have a boyfriend._

Okay, okay, he got it. He knew that. It was just…hard. Liking two people at the same time was terrible.

_I’m such an idiot._

There was no point in lying to himself. No point in lying to Gilbert, either, so he might as well get it off his chest.

“…Gil?” Even though he’d made up his mind, he spoke more quietly than normal, and almost squeaked.

Tilting his head slightly, the albino looked at him with a small, crooked smile. “ _Ja?_ ”

Why did he have to smile like that? Didn’t he know how handsome he was?

“Um,” the blond fidgeted with the cuffs on his hoody sleeves, trying to come up with a good way to phrase this, “I was just wondering…what you really think of me dating Francis…”

That question took Gilbert by surprise. “You _und_ Francis? Vhy? Is somezhing wrong?”

“ _Non,_ sometimes I just wonder if he’s right for me, you know?”

Everything he disliked about Matthew’s relationship with Francis jumped to the tip of his tongue, but Gilbert didn’t let himself say anything. Now wasn’t the time to let his personal feelings get in the way. Matthew was asking him a serious question and it deserved a well thought out answer.

“Vhat makes you zhink he might not be?” he asked slowly, choosing his words carefully so that he wouldn’t take sides too early on in the conversation.

“Well, I,” more fidgeting and hesitating, “I like him, and he’s great, but I like someone else, too, so.”

“Somevone else? Who?”

His face couldn’t possibly have gotten any redder. He was about to confess his feelings. Maybe. There was a good chance that he’d chicken out. Ah, no, he’d regret it for weeks if he passed up this chance. He had to say it. He had to. Now was the perfect opportunity.

Oh, _dieu,_ he was really going to say it. After weeks and weeks of keeping quiet and fighting with himself about what he should do, he was finally going to tell him. It was terrifying. His stomach felt weird and he vaguely wondered if he might throw up. Had he ever been this nervous about anything before? Crap, he was going to be sick. He should just brush it off and move onto a new topic.

No, no, he was doing this. He’d already made up his mind. Still, that didn’t keep him from drawing his knees up, curling his arms to his chest and hiding his face in his sleeves.

“ _Vou,_ ” the Canadian mumbled, muffled and barely audible in the otherwise silent dorm.

Gilbert stared blankly. “… _vas?_ ” Why was Matt hiding like that? It was cute and all, but he didn’t understand why the blond had tucked himself into a ball. He had to be embarrassed about whatever he’d just said, the problem was that he had barely even heard it, and he was pretty sure it’d been in French.

Without moving, Matthew swallowed hard. “I…like…you….”

Oh, shit. Fuck. Not good.

His mouth opened and closed soundlessly as his lungs and throat refused to work together to form words. This was not good. It was great, but definitely not good.

The albino forced a strained smile and said the only thing he could think of. “I like you, too.”

Just enough to meet the older boy’s gaze, Matt lifted his head off his arms. He was visibly distressed by this exchange, and seeing it made Gilbert feel bad.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, or at least tried to.

“No, it’s not.” Matthew rested his chin on his knees and sighed. “Francis and I are going on a date tomorrow night. I can’t go with him if I’m going to spend the whole time thinking about you or wondering if I really should be dating him or imagining how things would be if we hadn’t fought.”

As bad as he felt that he was causing the younger student trouble, Gilbert couldn’t help but be a little pleased that Matthew apparently thought about him so much. “I don’t know vhat to say,” he admitted after a few seconds of silence, and the Canadian turned his head to rest his cheek on his knee, his gaze on the floor.

“Me neither.”

The dorm was consumed by a quiet that was far less comfortable than the last one had been. This one was tense, was full of unvoiced concerns and pleas and feelings that neither boy would ever say. It just wasn’t how they were. So they sat there, not looking at each other, not speaking, just sat and waited for the solution to this to present itself.

_I can’t break up with Francis over this, not if it hurts him._

How could he do that to the one person who’d managed to make him feel better when he hadn’t even wanted to get out of bed? It would be cruel, and the Frenchman was so perfect to him that anyone would be crazy not to want to be with him.

Apparently, Matthew Williams was a little bit crazy. He liked Francis and liked being with him, but…with Gilbert sitting only a couple feet away…it was hard to not want to be with him, too.

_What do I do?_

This wasn’t how he’d thought he was going to spend the evening. Go to Gil’s dorm, do some homework, maybe watch a movie. It was odd that Gilbird hadn’t made a sound this entire time—the little bird would have been a nice distraction from the tension. But he hadn’t expected being around the albino to make him so…conflicted. That was the perfect word for this. He was conflicted and had no idea what he was supposed to do because he’d never been in a situation anywhere close to this.

“Matt?”

He didn’t look up. “Hm.”

“I zhink you should talk to Francis about it.”

What?

Surprise made the Canadian lift his head and stare at Gilbert in confusion. Tell Francis? No, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t tell Francis that he liked Gilbert, that he maybe liked Gilbert more than he liked Francis. It would be plain mean, especially on a date or right before one or right after one. That would ruin the whole evening.

“But I don’t want to hurt him,” he mumbled, looking down again, his arms wrapped around his knees.

Gilbert shrugged and let his head fall back, his eyes closing. “Vouldn’t it be lying to him if you don’t say anyzhing?” It would’ve been easy to show how much he wanted Matt to say something so that his relationship with Francis would end, and he could have a second chance at dating him, but he held that back. Easy, sure, but it wouldn’t have been right. This wasn’t about him.

“Uh… _oui_ ….I guess…” There was no honest way to disagree with that, but Matthew didn’t want to admit it. “I just…I…”

Twisting his head side-to-side to pop his neck, the older student sat up again and gave the younger an understanding look. “Matt.” He waited until blue-violet eyes looked at him. “If you veren’t going to tell Francis, zhen you shouldn’t have told me. It isn’t fair to keep me hopeful if I don’t really have a chance.” Forcing himself, he watched the small amount of guilt that came into the blond’s expression before Matthew looked away.

“…you’re right. Sorry.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Gilbert smiled weakly, “I’m glad you told me, but you really should tell Francis, too. Keeping it from him vould be zhe opposite of awesome.”

Matthew sighed. “Right again.” His eyes closed momentarily as he took a few deep breaths, then he smiled as sincerely as he could manage. “I’ll tell him.”

“Good. Now, come here.” His smile became a grin and Gilbert held his arms open towards the younger student; Matthew was quick to scoot across the distance between them so that those arms could wrap around him in a hug.

“ _Merci,_ Gilbert,” he murmured, comfortably snuggled into the albino’s chest.

“ _Bitte,_ Matzhew.”


	32. Chapter 32

Fingers twined, Matthew and Francis walked out of the theater and wandered off down the sidewalk. It had been a good movie, an adaptation from a novel Francis had read. According to the Frenchman, it could have easily turned into a bad movie.

“I’m glad we saw it,” the younger blond commented, smiling, and Francis nodded enthusiastically.

“Zhey did wonderful wizh Augustus.”

Matt would have to take his word for it, since he’d never read the book and had never even heard of it before Francis asked him to go see the movie. The Frenchman had actually cried a little at times, silently, and Matthew couldn’t remember any point when his hand had been let go of. The movie had captured all of the older male’s attention, but he’d focused on Francis more than the movie. It wasn’t something he’d particularly want to watch again.

“Well, dinner was great, and you loved the movie,” he began, smiling, “what’s next? Home?”

Francis shook his head and shifted his grip on the younger student’s hand. “Zhere’s one more zhing I want to do.”

Curious, Matthew looked at the other blond. “What?” It wasn’t the first time Francis had kept the last part of a date a secret from him, and he couldn’t help but wonder what else the Frenchman had planned.

But Francis just smiled. “You’ll see.” And he led Matthew off down the sidewalk.

It was dark, and snowy, and cold, but neither boy minded. The city’s Christmas decorations had yet to be taken down, so they gave the snow a multicolored brilliance that Matt enjoyed looking at as they walked.

“It’s beautiful out here,” he commented softly at one point, and Francis squeezed his hand.

“ _Oui._ ”

They continued on in silence for some number of minutes, not touching other than holding hands. Matt wondered what that meant—in movies and books, and when he walked with Gilbert, the couples were always bumping elbows and brushing shoulders, they leaned into each other and were just generally closer than he and Francis were.

_That probably means something._

Worry about what almost made him bite his lip, but he kept his thoughts to himself as Francis pulled him across the street towards what looked like a park. A lane for cars ran on each side of a long, snow-covered median with trees planted every ten feet or so, all decorated with Christmas lights. Wider areas outside the traffic lanes sported bushes as well as trees, and each side had a sidewalk. That was where Francis led him, and soon they were walking under icy, lit up branches as the moon and stars floated above them and the city lights peeked over the tops of the trees.

If the regular decorations on the street before had been beautiful, then Matthew didn’t even know what this was. He didn’t have a word other than breathtaking.

“It’s _magnifique, non?_ ” Francis asked with a smile, and the younger blond nodded.

“ _Magnifique._ ”

They walked a bit farther along before the sidewalk split, branching off into the bushes and trees.

Francis smiled again and tugged Matthew along. “Let’s go look.” He led the way down this new path until they came across a small paved circle around a bench with an overhang to protect it from rain and snow. Without hesitating, he went to it and sat, pulling Matt down beside him. “Zhis is a nice little spot.”

“ _Oui,_ it’s cute.”

The hand he’d been holding for so long pulled out of his grasp, and then Matt felt an arm drape around his shoulders. Smiling, he leaned into Francis’ side and let his eyes close partially as he looked out at the winter wonderland they were surrounded by. This was just the sort of romantic ending Francis would plan for a date.

“Hm…” The happy hum left him before he even thought about it. Sitting here with Francis was really nice.

“ _Cher._ ”

The petname barely distracted Matt from his contented stargazing. “Yes?”

Francis’ fingers idly rubbed the Canadian’s shoulder. “Are you happy?”

A slight frown creased Matthew’s forehead and he sat up enough to look at his companion. “Of course I’m happy.”

“ _Oui,_ but are you truly content?”

Oh, now he saw it in those kind blue eyes. This was about Gilbert.

“Francis—”

“It’s all right if you’re not happy wizh me, Matthieu,” the older boy interrupted, smiling just a little. “But please tell me if zhat’s zhe case.”

Slowly, Matt lowered his gaze and sat up entirely; Francis’ arm left his shoulders. This was it, this was his chance to be honest. “I…don’t know,” he admitted. “I am happy with you, Francis. You’re wonderful, and spending time with you like tonight is amazing. I know I don’t really deserve you.” Nervous, the Canadian clasped his hands in his lap and took a deep breath. “But I like Gilbert, too. I did before us and I tried to forget about it, I just can’t. Not when I’m around him so much.” Ducking his head, Matt didn’t try to pretend he wasn’t ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry.”

Gentle hands cupped his face and lifted—he was surprised to find Francis smiling at him.

“I know.”

Blue-violet eyes blinked behind glasses. “You do?”

The smile on Francis’ face grew slightly. “Of course, _mon cher._ I’m French, after all,” he teased lightly, and Matthew had to chuckle a little. “I’ve always known you would eventually decide zhat you want Gilbert instead of me.”

“Then…why date me? If you knew…”

“Because I like you, _et_ you needed someone.” Francis let go of the younger boy’s face and picked up his hands instead, playing with gloved fingers. “Per’aps it sounds bad to say it like zhat…what I mean is zhat I would ‘ave dated you regardless. You’re a wonderful person, Matthieu. It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect you to ignore your feelings for Gilbert because of me. No one should ‘ave to do zhat.”

Seconds passed and all Matthew could do was stare at the elegant blond who had been so kind to him for all this time. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes and let out a happy sort of sob as he leaned forward and hugged Francis, burying his face in the blue-eyed blond’s shoulder. He’d been honest and Francis wasn’t angry, wasn’t hurt or jealous. Francis had known all along, and he was completely accepting of it. This couldn’t possibly have gone better.

“ _Merci,_ Francis,” the Canadian mumbled as arms wrapped around him.

“You’re welcome, _cher._ ”

They stayed like that for a moment, until Matthew pulled back and gave his companion a watery smile as he wiped at his eyes. “I never thought my first relationship would end so peacefully,” he half-joked, and Francis laughed light-heartedly.

“’ow could a relationship wizh me end any differently?”

Too happy to try to think of anything, Matt just shrugged and smiled. “No idea.”

Fondly, Francis patted the younger boy’s cheek. “Zhere’s only one ozher zhing to do now.”

“What’s that?”

The older boy smiled rather mischievously. “I need to make a phone call.”

“…what?” Confused, Matthew watched Francis get up and move a few steps away from the bench, his phone out and held to his ear. “Francis—”

An arm extended towards him, a finger held up to tell him to wait a minute, and he fell silent.

“’ello, _mon vieil ami._ ”

Matt’s curiosity burned to know who was on the other end of that call, but he didn’t try to interrupt. He would probably have just been told to wait again.

“ _Oui,_ I am, _et_ zhat is why I’m calling you.”

Pause.

“I know what’s going on, _ami._ Zhe game’s over.” Then he ended the call before the other person could respond, took a moment to press a few other buttons on his phone, and turned to Matt with a smile. “Well, now zhat zhat’s taken care of, I zhink I should be going.”

Completely at a loss, the younger blond could only stare for a moment before he stood. “Okay.”

“Oh, _non, cher,_ you’re staying ‘ere.”

“What? Why?” Francis wasn’t going to take him back to campus? How else was he supposed to get home? “I don’t know the way back.”

“I know, but don’t worry about zhat.” There was something disconcertingly smug about the Frenchman’s smile. “Your ride will be ‘ere in no time. Just sit back et enjoy zhe night.” His smile gentled and Francis came close again, lifting a hand to stroke Matthew’s cheek. “ _Un dernier baiser,_ ” he whispered, then leaned close and gently pressed his lips to the younger blond’s. Even through his confusion, Matthew knew to close his eyes and press back until the Frenchman drew away. Francis’ smile was sad now. “I’ll miss doing zhat.” His thumb brushed over a pale cheek as the two looked at each other, then his hand dropped to his side and he turned, walking back the way they’d come. “I’ll see you around, _cher,_ ” he called back with a small wave.

Matthew had never been so lost in his life. “Bye.” It was all he could think to say, and he didn’t move until Francis was out of sight. Then he simply sat back down, hands gripping the edge of the bench seat, sighed, and looked around for some sign of what he was supposed to do now.

None of that had made sense to him. Who had Francis called? What did he mean, his ride would be here in no time? Was someone coming to get him? Was it whoever the Frenchman had called? Who knew?

“Not me,” Matt muttered to himself, frowning at the white powder under his boots.

He sighed again.

Maybe he should get a taxi. He probably had enough money to pay to get back to campus. Probably.

But what if someone was coming to get him? If he left, it’d be a waste of their time to drive all the way here.

_What to do what to do._

“I’ll wait twenty minutes, he decided. “That should be long enough.” Campus wasn’t too far away—if anyone was coming for him, they should make it in that time.

Twenty minutes of sitting alone in a park at nearly eleven at night. It wasn’t how he’d expected the night to end.

Matthew leaned back on the bench and folded his arms over his chest to conserve body heat. It was a good thing he had such warm clothes on, or he’d have been freezing. January was a pretty cold time of year, after all.

His breath was puffs of white on the still winter air. The minutes passed by, slowly, or maybe it only seemed that way because he kept checking his phone and had nothing to distract himself with.

Fifteen minutes.

He covered his nose and mouth with his scarf to protect them from the cold—his nose already felt numb. Maybe he should pace around to keep his blood flowing. He settled for shifting around on the bench and stomping his feet against the pavement.

Ten minutes.

Okay, twenty minutes might have been a little long to decide on. It was cold, he was cold, and tired, and he had no idea what he was sitting there waiting for. This was ridiculous. Had Francis only pretended to be okay with it so he could ditch him and leave him stranded? No, no, the older blond would never be so petty, and the others wouldn’t let him get away with it. Definitely not. He could wait.

Five minutes.

Geez, it was cold. Matthew stood and shuffled around in an attempt to warm himself, and stared at his phone in the hopes that the clock would change faster so he could leave. The park was beautiful and all, but he didn’t want to be there alone.

_Maybe I should call Francis and make him explain._

Yeah, that was a good idea, and then he’d go hail a cab or something to take him back to campus. Now, where was the Frenchman’s number…

“Matt?” a sudden voice called uncertainly, and the blond’s hands froze on his phone, Francis’ number slipping from his mind. Slowly, he turned, and tried to comprehend the sight of Gilbert standing on the path.

_Francis called Gilbert. Of course._

It all made so much sense now. Who else would he have called, in this situation?

“…hi,” the Canadian greeted, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Hey.”

“Are you supposed to be picking me up?”

“ _Ja,_ I guess. Francis vasn’t very specific.” The Prussian dug into his coat pocket and withdrew his phone, moving to stand beside Matthew, and showed him a text he’d gotten from Francis over twenty minutes ago.

_> >Come to this address and take care of things._

There was an attachment underneath that turned out to be a screenshot of their location on a map when Gilbert tapped it. Apparently, Francis had known how tonight was going to end.

_He still brought me out, even though he knew._

It dumbfounded Matthew, and he was still thinking about it while Gilbert put his phone away.

“I take it you told him.”

“He already knew.”

“Mm.”

They stood there quietly for a while, Gilbert just waiting for Matthew to finish his thought. Eventually, the Canadian stuck his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight, looking around the park as he took a breath to clear his head.

“What does it mean, ‘take care of things’?” he asked, turning just his head towards Gilbert.

“I’m not sure.”

The rest of Matthew’s body twisted around to follow his head and he directed his gaze at the snowy ground. “Francis and I broke up.”

“Are you okay vizh zhat?”

Matthew shrugged and nodded. “I feel bad, but he wasn’t angry or anything. He always knew I liked you, apparently.”

“Zhat doesn’t surprise me.”

“But you still thought I needed to tell him.”

“ _Ja,_ because he deserved to hear it from you.”

“I guess.” But he still felt lost, and he wasn’t sure how to voice his next thought. Were he and Gilbert supposed to date now? Was that what Francis’ text meant? It seemed a little strange that his ex-boyfriend would want him to be with someone else so quickly, but then, the last thing Francis would ever wish on anyone was loneliness. Matthew knew he would never try to keep people apart.

_Well, here goes nothing._

Taking a deep breath, the Canadian faced the other student, his hands clenched inside his pockets. “Gilbert.”

Instead of speaking, Gilbert took the opportunity to catch the blond’s waist and pulled Matt close until they stood against each other—the younger’s face quickly flushed pink, though it was difficult to see in the dim lighting. With their chests touching and noses almost brushing, there was no escaping the intensity of Gilbert’s red-eyed gaze.

“Don’t say anyzhing,” the albino whispered, his eyes dropping from Matt’s to land on the Canadian’s lips.

Matthew’s breath caught in his throat. Anticipation coursed through him, making him hyper aware of his proximity to the older boy as he forgot about everything else. He didn’t have a single coherent thought, just a barrage of emotions that stopped the instant Gilbert leaned forward. An unfamiliar pair of lips captured his own, soft and cold from the winter air, and his stomach exploded with excited flutters. The feeling took him off-guard—that had never happened when Francis kissed him.

Slowly, his eyes fell closed, and his hands freed themselves of his pockets so he could curl his fingers into the front of Gilbert’s coat. He pressed back, lightly at first, then harder, and went onto the tips of his toes as arms wound tight around him.

“Gilbert,” the blond sighed against the other’s mouth, and Gilbert chuckled, kissed him again, then drew away just far enough for their eyes to meet.

“It’s about time I did zhat.”

Matt nodded and reached up for another kiss that turned into several pecks, after which Gilbert hugged him and almost lifted him off his feet.

Warmth seeped from the older to the younger and vice-versa; they weren’t even aware of the winter night anymore. And while Matthew still felt sort of bad about Francis, he was also intensely happy that he was going to be with Gilbert now. Just being able to hold onto him like this was enough to make the Canadian giddy.

_I kissed him._

The thought had him laughing and he hugged Gilbert tighter, thinking that maybe he would never have to let go. Except they were still in the park, and it was getting pretty late, so he forced himself to loosen his grip. They stepped back from each other at the same time, smiling shyly but happily, and Matthew didn’t hesitate to take hold of the older boy’s hand, so much larger and firmer than his own. Gilbert laced their fingers and squeezed.

“Be my boyfriend?” the white-haired boy asked, ducking his head so that his bangs fell over his eyes just a little.

Matthew smiled and nodded, then kissed the albino one more time before they started the walk to Gilbert’s car.

It was a fairly quiet drive back to the college, and they silently agreed to go straight to Gilbert’s dorm after leaving the car in the parking lot. Not having his pajamas or tooth brush or anything did nothing to change Matthew’s mind, mostly because he was more interested in that they were holding hands again, and their elbows kept bumping, and their shoulders brushed now and then. He thought that probably meant something nice.

When they got to the dorm, Gilbert shared with his younger brother, they had to be sure to be quiet and used a desk lamp to see rather than the lights because Ludwig was already fast asleep. Feliciano’s small form was curled into the German’s side, and Matthew smiled at how sweet they looked.

His attention was soon captured by the feeling of being watched, and he turned to find Gilbert smiling at him as he shrugged out of his coat and took off his boots. Matthew followed suit, somewhat shy now, until both boys were in jeans and t-shirts and socks. While Gilbert turned off the lamp, Matt climbed into the Prussian’s bed and waited until his new boyfriend joined him before lying down and immediately cuddling into the larger male’s chest.

“ _Gute nacht,_ Mattie,” Gil whispered into the Canadian’s ear, wrapping his arms around the slim blond and drawing him close for warmth and comfort.

Despite not wanting to sleep because he was feeling much too happy for it, Matthew’s eyes were already closed, and he answered in a drowsy voice, “Night, Gil.” He hadn’t been so comfortable or content in weeks.


	33. Chapter 33

He was so warm it was unbelievable. Warm and quiet and incredibly comfortable, perfectly still as he slowly drifted in and out of sleep. All he was aware of was the body beside his own, the arm draped over his side and the fingers loosely laced through his own.

The dorm room was silent, all outside noise muted by the snow drifting past the window. Bright white light came in through the crack in the curtains, not enough to disturb the peace, but enough to see by. Ludwig and Feliciano were probably still asleep in the blond’s bed, and if they felt anything like Gilbert did, he completely understood why.

This was heaven.

Sure, it was a surprise, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. How could he? Mysterious texts from people he didn’t particularly like weren’t something Gilbert had ever wanted, yet there he was with Matt curled up against him and fast asleep. The Canadian barely moved in his sleep, just the slow expanding of his ribcage as he breathed. He didn’t snore, to one one’s surprise, and being cuddled up with him like this was really, really nice. Gilbert had absolutely no motivation to move or get up.

He did, though, slowly lifting just his arm to brush a few stray strands of blond hair back out of the Canadian’s face. Matt’s face was entirely relaxed, his eyelashes practically invisible against pale skin. Even his lips were a delicate shade of pink, parted slightly as he breathed.

The urge to kiss the younger male built until Gilbert’s jaw ached. His teeth ground together as he tried to stretch out the muscles with little success. Frustration with himself showed in how his arm tightened infinitesimally around Matthew.

_Gottverdammt._

Lying here had been so nice and now he couldn’t even relax, all because Matt had to lie there looking all kissable. It was maddening.

_…I could just do it._

That was true. Last night’s events basically meant he could kiss Matthew whenever he wanted. It was a development he was more than happy with, but he still hesitated to do anything. What if it woke him up? He looked far too peaceful to be disturbed.

Conflicted, the white-haired male sighed and lightly carded his fingers through blond locks. They were soft against his skin, and he was sorely tempted to do it again. But just like the urge to kiss the younger student, he ignored it and settled his arm comfortably on Matthew’s waist.

It was still early, and snowing—Gilbert shifted under the blankets and closed his eyes. A little more sleep wouldn’t hurt anything.

\- 

_Peep._

Something moved on his shoulder and poked at his head, sifting through a tiny bit of his hair. It was a small, familiar weight that Gilbert recognized even before he was fully awake.

Lifting jut his head, he peered at the small yellow creature. “Morning, Gilbird.”

_Peep._ Gilbird puffed himself up and began cleaning his feathers, tiny talons caught in the fabric of his owner’s shirt. He wobbled slightly as Gilbert began to sit up, and easily moved to a safer perch for the duration of the college student’s morning stretch.

“Mm…” Letting out a sigh, Gilbert dropped his arms and smiled to feel a small, feathered head nuzzle at his cheek. “Hey.” One hand lifted and Gilbird, step by small, sliding step, climbed along the albino’s arm and onto his fingers. Carefully, Gilbert let him down on the pillow beside Matt’s sleep-still face. “Look who came to visit.”

Cocking his head, the bird hopped closer to Matthew and let out a small peep. When the blond didn’t move, he hopped even closer and rubbed his head against Matt’s lips before nibbling at them. It was an affectionate gesture that he’d done to Gilbert countless times, and it was enough to get blue-violet eyes to slowly crack open.

Vague confusion was the first expression on Matt’s face, followed by a sleepy smile. “Hi, Gilbird.”

With a chirp, Gilbird nuzzled the blond’s face again, and Matthew carefully stroked the bird’s bright feathers.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“It’s too cold to take him outside,” Gilbert explained, “so he’s stuck in zhe dorm.”

“Aw, poor little guy.” Sitting up, Matt let the bird step up onto his fingers and carefully transferred him to his shoulder. Gilbird immediately nuzzled his cheek and nibbled his ear, making the blond laugh quietly. “That tickles!”

Gilbert smiled and took his pet from Matthew’s shoulder, tsking his tongue. “Keep it togezher, Gilbird. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I don’t mind.” Affectionate, the Canadian petted Gilbird’s head again so that the little creature shuffled his feathers and puffed out his chest. “And neither does Gilbird. I missed him.”

“It looks like he missed you, too.”

Matthew kissed the top of Gilbird’s head. “Then I guess I’ll have to come visit more often.” He looked up at Gilbert, smiling softly, then leaned forward to kiss the older boy. Gilbert moved to meet him halfway, hand lifting to cup the blond’s cheek. It was a short, sweet kiss, the perfect kind for a morning like this one. Matthew did, however, give the older boy’s mouth a playful nip before he pulled away, and smiled innocently in response to Gilbert’s raised eyebrows.

“Good morning to you, too.”

They both laughed quietly and Gilbird chirped as if he understood. A comfortable silence fell over them as the two boys looked at each other. Shy but happy smiles were exchanged, and after a moment they both reached to hold the other’s hand.

“Thanks for letting me stay last night.”

“ _Ja,_ no problem.”

Looking around in hopes of inspiration of what to say next, Matt pushed his hair back out of his face and paused, his face crinkling slightly.

“Vhat?”

“I need to shower.” If his hair felt like this, then he probably smelled, too. Had Gilbert noticed? Oh, he hoped not. The embarrassment would have been awful. He needed to shower and change as soon as possible.

“Let me dress _und_ zhen ve’ll go to your dorm.” With a half-smile, Gilbert swung himself over the edge of the bed and climbed down the ladder. Matthew moved to do the same only to stop and stare. He’d never seen Gilbert shirtless before.

Pale, paler even than Matt was after growing up in snowy mountains, narrow but strong. The muscles in his back rippled as the albino bent and rifled through the dresser he shared with his brother. Watching it was just short of hypnotic—had Gilbert always been so muscular? No, he couldn’t have been. There was no way, but he was now, and Mathew couldn’t look away.

Gilbert turned, shaking out the shirt he’d chosen.

_Good god._

The Prussian was perfect. His lean frame was entirely encased in tough, sinewy muscle and Matthew couldn’t believe he’d never noticed it before.

The older boy turned again, his shirt half on, and looked up to meet the blond’s gaze. “ _Ja?_ ” he asked, amused; embarrassed to have been caught staring, Matt looked away as his face reddened.

“Nothing.”

His response made Gilbert chuckle as he finished putting on his shirt. “You can look. Ve’re dating now, _ja?_ ”

Shy, Matthew looked back to the albino. “ _Oui._ ”

“Zhen look, if you vant.” And with that, Gilbert opened the button and zipper of his jeans and dropped them. Matt’s face flamed but he didn’t look away, just watched the older boy slide the belt free of the loops and toss the old jeans towards the hamper in the closet. A new pair was pulled from the dresser, a different drawer than the shirt. It was almost disappointing to watch denim hide Gilbert’s legs—they were just as pale and muscled as the rest of him.

_How is he so perfect?_

It should have been impossible. Someone like Gilbert…he was _dating_ him, and he could look as much as he wanted. Just the thought made his neck and face feel warm.

To distract himself, the blond focused on climbing down from Gilbert’s bed and set about redressing in his clothes from the night before. Somehow, he and Gilbert didn’t wake the two other males sleeping in the dorm as they dressed for the cold and pulled on shoes to cross the frozen campus.

“Like logs,” the taller of the two commented, looking back at the blanket-covered form of Ludwig and Feliciano. He stood in the doorway for another moment, silent, then shut the door and walked with Matthew out of the dorm hall and into a cold January morning.

Their breath floated in white puffs. It reminded Gilbert of smoking, made him wonder just how long it’d been since his last cigarette. Weeks. Months, if only a few. The stronger withdrawal symptoms still appeared when he was stressed, but most of the time he didn’t even think about smoking. This whole fresh air thing was pretty nice.

Absently, and with a slight smile brought on by how nice of a morning it was, he caught Matthew’s hand and held it firmly. “Zhe ozhers vill probably be zhere already.”

“Yeah.” As calm as his reply was, Matthew’s stomach was full of butterflies. Gilbert was holding his hand and it had made an entire swarm of them erupt, made him feel giddy and nervous. The others would probably be there. Alfred was probably wondering where Matt had been all night. It wasn’t like the quiet blond to not come back to the dorm. Even for as long as he’d dated Francis, he’d only stayed at the Frenchman’s dorm a handful of times, and always with careful planning so as not to inconvenience anyone. This spontaneous sleepover at Gilbert’s was unheard of behavior for him. His brother was going to ask so many questions, and they were probably all going to be embarrassing.

“Hey,” Gilbert squeezed his hand, “somezhing wrong?”

“No,” the blond didn’t sound any surer than he felt, “I was just thinking about Alfred.”

“Vhat about him?”

“He’s going to tease me about staying in your dorm.”

“Zhen tell him not to be jealous you’re luckier zhan him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gilbert grinned toothily. “Do you really zhink Arzhur’s let zhat _bruder_ of yours sleep vizh him?”

“Uh…” It wasn’t something Matt had actually thought about. Alfred was happy with Arthur and that was what counted—his brother’s sex life wasn’t his concern. “I guess not.”

“Exactly. So if he teases you about me, zhat’s how you shut him up.”

“But I don’t want everyone to think I had sex with you when I didn’t!” Matthew protested, and Gilbert squeezed his hand again, reassuring this time.

“Zhen just say you vere too tired to come back here. It’s up to you, _vogel._ ”

“Okay.” That did make him feel a little better, but he still had to wonder. Would Francis be there? Did he tell anyone else about last night? Would they all be mad at him for showing up with Gilbert so quickly? They were all friends now, but still, Gilbert had been a villain to them for a long time. They might still disapprove.

He didn’t, however, have enough time to think about it in any more detail. They’d reached his dorm hall, and it was less than a minute before the door to his and Alfred’s room was in sight.

“Ready?” Gilbert looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

Matthew nodded, listening to the voices coming through the wood, then turned the doorknob and pushed. Silence fell over the room half a moment later. Five pairs of eyes were on them, and Matt had to swallow hard before he could move any farther than the doorway, even with Gilbert radiating support.

“Hey,” Alfred was the first to speak, sitting on the floor with his back against the frame of his bed, controller in hand from the game paused on the TV, “where ya been, bro?” He had Arthur’s knees on either side of his shoulders, and the Brit’s fingers were buried in Alfred’s hair, bent to scratch the American’s scalp.

Tense for the teasing and questions he knew would come, Matthew had to force the words out as casually as he could. “I stayed at Gilbert’s last night.”

“Oh. Kay.” Blue eyes went back to the TV and Alfred clicked a button on his controller to unpause his game. Background music and sound effects filled the silence, and the tension immediately faded. Four other pairs of eyes looked away, back to books and phones and the videogame flashing on the screen.

Gilbert leaned closer to Matthew. “Go shower,” he whispered, and the blond nodded.

Picking his way across the dorm room, Matt found himself avoiding looking at any of his friends despite the lack of reaction to his showing up with Gilbert. There was no reason for him to be so apprehensive, he just couldn’t help it. Even if no one said anything, he was sure they were all thinking it. And Francis was there, sitting on the futon with a book in his hands, something he was reading for class. He wasn’t looking at Matthew, but the Canadian had the feeling that Francis was just waiting for him to look first. So he kept his gaze on the floor as he gathered what he needed for his shower, including clean clothes to wear back to the room—being around other people while practically naked wasn’t something he enjoyed.

“Excuse me,” he murmured, leaving Gilbert with the others, arms full as he left the dorm and walked the short distance to the bathroom. The sandals he’d replaced his tennis shoes with slapped against the tile floor, echoing, and he was relieved to find he had the bathroom to himself.

A soft sigh escaped him and Matthew chose the corner shower. His things were deposited on the bench, then he reached past the curtain to turn the water on. He stripped as it heated, glad to take off his dirty clothes, and absently ran his tongue over his teeth.

_Ugh…_

He was going to have to brush them after his shower. For now, though, he just finished undressing and stuck his hand past the curtain again to test the water. It was warm, not hot and definitely not cold, so he slipped into the stall and made sure the curtain was fully closed behind him so as not to get water all over the floor.

The water drenched him. He shook his hair out, making sure it was thoroughly wet before picking up his soap and rubbing it between his palms. Even if he couldn’t actually feel the soap working on his skin, he certainly felt better as he scrubbed himself. Felt fresher, lighter, happier. Cleaning his hair, however quickly he had to do it and however frustrating that wayward curl was, only made it better. How did he ever skip showers? They were the only good start to a day, the only thing that genuinely made him feel ready to do anything. It was impossible to be in a good mood if he felt dirty, impossible to really feel good about himself, feel confident. Even just rinsing off at the end was like taking a breath of fresh air, and Matthew was smiling to himself as he dried off and dressed. Being around everyone else would be a lot easier after this; he wouldn’t feel nearly as self-conscious as before.

The first thing he noticed when he walked back into the dorm was that Antonio had come over, then that Al’s game was paused, and the room’s other occupants were all focusing on the Spaniard. That prompted him to be quiet as he put his things away and added his dirty clothes to the laundry bag in the back o the closet. Then he sank onto the futon, between Francis and Gilbert, awkwardly enough.

“What’s going on?” he asked softly as Gilbert took his hand.

“Antonio’s having trouble vizh Lovino again.”

“Oh.”

It wasn’t even mildly surprising. Antonio’s life seemed like one good time after another in every area except where the Italian was concerned. So it wasn’t surprising, but at least the brunet wasn’t in a rage this time.

“He won’t even say hello to me,” Antonio lamented, drawing Matthew and Gilbert’s attention. “He barely even looks at me.” The green-eyed brunet was lying on Alfred’s bed, the picture of absolute misery as he mumbled on about how much he wished Lovino would just give him a chance, and how could someone so cute be so heartless?

“I don’t understand,” Gilbert commented at one point, “zhat brat’s so annoying.”

Immediately, Antonio sat up. “He is not!”

“ _Ja,_ ” the albino wasn’t bothered in the slightest, “he is. He spends all his time hiding in my dorm vizh his _bruder_ vhezher he’s vanted or not. I’ll help you vin him over just to get rid of him.”

Although his initial reaction was to frown over Gilbert’s less-than-flattering opinion of Lovino, Antonio quickly overcame that in favor of hopeful disbelief. “You will?”

“ _Ja._ Don’t know how, but I vill.”

“Me, too,” Matthew joined in, smiling.

“We’ll all help, dude.” Grinning, Alfred clapped Antonio on the shoulder. “It’ll be great. We’ll get Lovino to fall for you in no time.”

Antonio looked overwhelmed as the rest of his friends nodded their agreement with Alfred, then his face broke into a wide smile. “ _¡Mis amigos, son los mejores!_ ” Alfred and Arthur were quickly pulled into a hug, and Antonio kissed both their cheeks before continuing on in Spanish, presumably complimenting them all for their support.

Leaning close to Matt, Gilbert commented, “Vell, he’s happy,” under his breath, then met the younger student’s gaze and winked. It made Matthew laugh quietly.

“So, Gilbert,” Francis was demure, his attention on his book again, “’ow exactly do you plan on wooing little Lovino?”

Completely relaxed and now with his arm around Matthew’s shoulders, Gilbert grinned easily. “No idea.”

“Hey, Valentine’s Day is just a few weeks away!” There was an excited sparkle in Alfred’s blue eyes that said he had an idea. “And you’re a romantic guy, Tonio! You should ask him to be your Valentine!”

At first, the Spaniard nodded eagerly, then seemed to reconsider. “He’ll say no,” he muttered dejectedly, only to have Al grab his shoulder and shake him a little.

“Not if we come up with the perfect plan! Just you wait, we’ll get Lovino to be your Valentine, and then you’ll have a chance to make him fall in love with your Spanish charms!”

“There’s no stopping him, now,” Arthur sighed, watching his bespectacled boyfriend with an expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. His comment earned a few chuckles—they all knew he was right.


	34. Chapter 34

It had snowed all day, a windless, silent cloaking of white to cover up all the dirty, soiled snow that had built along curbs and sidewalks. Pristine, it glittered under the dying glow of the sun and the still-brightening streetlamps. Finally, as the day turned to evening, it had stopped, and now Matthew was leading Gilbert across their winter-locked campus.

There was a blindfold tied around the older boy’s head, so he was forced to trust the blond holding onto his hand. Matt walked just in front of the taller student, an excited smile hidden behind his scarf.

“Is it much farzher?” White puffs floated up behind them when Gilbert spoke.

“We’re almost there.”

It was silent save for the crunching of boots on snow. Hopefully, Alfred had kept his promise to have everything ready on time.

Amused by his current situation, Gilbert found it impossible to keep quiet. “I still don’t understand, _vogel._ Ve could’ve stayed in. Zhere’s nozhing wrong vizh vatching movies _und_ eating popcorn all night.”

“We can do that after.”

“But you still haven’t told me vhat ve’re doing now.”

“I told you, it’s a surprise.” There was a hint of exasperation in Matthew’s tone that made Gilbert smile.

“Tell me again.”

Rolling his eyes, Matt tugged at his companion’s hand. “I have a surprise for your birthday, so keep walking.”

Chuckling, Gilbert allowed himself to be marched around in the snow. “ _Ja, vogel._ ”

Only a few minutes later, the pair came to a stop and Matthew extricated his hand from Gilbert’s grasp. “Hold on a moment.”

“Okay.” The albino stood there, staring at the blackness of the blindfold, a small smile on his lips. He could hear Matthew crunching on the snow and muttering to himself—a faint smell reached him, teasing his nose. Smoke? Did Matthew have matches?

“Matt?”

“Just wait, it’s almost ready.”

Confused and curious, the older student was less willing to listen but did anyway. He’d get in trouble with the blond if he took off the blindfold without permission, which wasn’t what he wanted for his birthday. So he waited, however impatiently.

Soon, Matt’s footsteps approached him. Fingers brushed over his palm and crept between his own until they found their favorite spot and settled.

“Okay,” it was evident in his voice alone that the blond was smiling, “you can look.”

With his free hand, Gilbert caught his thumb under the blindfold and tugged it up off his head. Even as used to the blackness as they were, his eyes quickly adjusted to the dimly lit scene before him.

Candles. In clusters of three or four, they sat on the rocks and in the snow, making everything sparkle. In the center of the ring, where they’d sat and laid together for who knew how many hours, there was a pile of what looked like blankets.

“Happy birthday, Gilbert,” Matthew said, his soft voice fitting in perfectly with the candlelit scene.

Looking down at the blond, Gilbert squeezed Matt’s hand and smiled. “ _Danke,_ Mattie.”

They admired it for another few seconds, then Matthew picked his away between the rocks and lowered himself onto the blankets. He was careful not to get snow everywhere, taking his boots off and leaving them off to the side. Then he looked up at Gilbert, smiling, and offered his hand. “Coming?”

The older boy didn’t move right away, too caught up in thinking that this was all pretty romantic, and had to hope that he wasn’t blushing when he realized where his mind had wandered to. Then he tried to act like it hadn’t wandered at all, moving a little too hastily to join Matt on the pile of blankets. Less neatly than the blond had done, Gilbert kicked off his boots then helped Matthew pull one of the blankets up to cover their feet, legs, and laps. Once they were sufficiently protected from the cold, they shifted closer to each other to share body heat. Gilbert’s arm found its way around Matt’s shoulders; the blond turned, tucking his body into the space that had been provided for him, his head resting on the albino’s shoulder.

“Zhis is really great, Matt,” Gilbert murmured, voice so quiet that it didn’t disturb the still peace of the evening. “I’m glad you brought me out here.”

Eyes closed, Matt was almost perfectly still, only the steady movement of his ribs as he breathed guaranteeing he was alive. “I couldn’t find any good presents, so I thought we should do something extra special.”

“You vere right.” Hugging him just a little closer, Gilbert kissed the top of Matt’s head, and the blond smiled fondly. Warm and comfortable, the two students cuddled together under the blankets as night fell around them and the candles slowly burned lower. It really was beautiful. When was the last time he’d been this happy? Had he ever? He didn’t think so…but then, there had been obvious changes in his life recently, the most important of which was right next to him. This was probably one of the best birthdays he’d ever had.

“Hey, Matt,” Gilbert whispered suddenly, and the blond stirred against him.

“What?”

“I know vhat you can give me for _mein_ birzhday.”

Matt looked up at the older boy and instantly recognized the playful hitch at the corner of his mouth. It was the look Gilbert would always get right before doing something flirtatious or suggestive. Knowing what the answer was probably going to be, he still asked, just to give Gil the satisfaction. “And what can I give you for your birthday?” He didn’t sound curious in the least, but he knew that didn’t matter.

The hitch turned into a grin, and Gilbert cupped the blond’s face in one gloved hand. “Here,” he said softly, starting to lean closer, “I’ll show you.”

Before they even kissed, both boys’ eyes had closed, and Matthew sat up a little in order to reach more easily. Softly, Gil’s lips caught the blond’s and held them for a few seconds, then he drew back just enough to look at the younger boy. Blue-violet eyes fluttered open to stare back at him, followed by a shy smile.

“Is that all you wanted?”

“Mm…maybe more zhan vone.”

Nodding, Matt reached up again. “Yeah.” The word barely managed to slip out of his mouth before his lips were too busy kissing to say anything else. This one was a little less gentle and a little more urgent, with Gilbert tilting his head to claim Matt’s lips.

The taste of the younger student wasn’t entirely familiar to him yet. It was sweet and warm, not quite sugary, and entirely addictive. Just the trace of it on those pale lips made him hungry for more, made him catch the Canadian’s lower lip and suck on it.

Red eyes opened to find blue-violet watching him from behind still-fogging glasses, hazy and hooded. Gilbert smirked and slowly let the lip slip from between his teeth.

“Keep looking at me like zhat _und_ I’m going to start vanting more zhan just a kiss, _vogel,_ ” he half-warned, half-teased, ignoring the fact that he already wanted more than just kisses. Just being this close to the bespectacled blond made him want to hold Matt against him and kiss him until they were both light-headed, toy with the curl that he knew was so sensitive, and see just how loud he could get the quiet boy to be. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been dating nearly long enough for him to do anything like that, so cuddling and little kisses were going to have to be enough for now, and at least he got to watch the understanding come into Matthew’s eyes, quickly followed by a blush in his cheeks.

Embarrassed now, and shy, Matt pulled away from the older boy. “Sorry.”

“ _Nein,_ don’t be, it vas a nice kiss.”

A small smile found its way onto Matt’s face, and he leaned close again to rest his head on Gilbert’s shoulder. “Okay.”

They settled again, and sat quietly together for a while. It wasn’t long before Matthew started to doze, which Gilbert didn’t mind at all. He’d rather that than try to pretend he wasn’t still thinking about the way the blond had looked at him.

It was sort of stupid, really. He’d seen Matt’s glasses fog up plenty of times just from walking into a warm building. There was no reason for it to get to him so much now, except for the fact that it’d been from the heat of their faces as they kissed. Sure, movies had car windows fog up if a couple was fooling around inside, but glasses from a kiss? He hadn’t been expecting it, and the way Matt had looked at him…fuck, but if they’d been dating as long as he wished they had been, he would’ve had the blond on his back in a second. Even being together for less than a month, he’d considered it, but he didn’t know how far things had gone between Matthew and Francis, and he didn’t want to cross a line and make the Canadian uncomfortable, especially not tonight, when he’d set this up just for Gilbert.

Unfortunately, his body didn’t want to cooperate with the idea of waiting for their relationship to progress at a natural pace. This could get awkward painfully fast if he didn’t distract himself.

_Just zhink about somezhing else. Somezhing boring or annoying. Zhink about Lovino being in your room all zhe time. Little brat needs to go home or somezhing, or just go on vone fucking date vizh Antonio so zhey can fall in love or vhatever._

Okay, no, bad idea. Putting himself in a sour mood definitely wasn’t the way to go. He wanted to be happy, just not turned on like he was.

Almost without deciding to, Gilbert looked down at Matt’s sleep-still face and smiled to himself. The blond really was cute, and seemed so innocent that he couldn’t bring himself to think that things had gone anywhere at all with Francis. Still…the Frenchman _was_ more charming than most, and Matthew was pretty easy to talk into things…

No, no, he was sure Matthew hadn’t done anything sexual with Francis. The blond was too shy, right? And Francis was a pretty respectable guy now, so he wouldn’t have pressured Matt into anything he wasn’t ready for, and they’d only been together for a couple months. Or was it three? Maybe four? Fuck.

“Hey, Matt,” the albino spoke before he could stop himself, and the blond woke with a small start.

“Hm…what…?”

Now that he realized what he’d been about to ask, Gilbert found the words stuck in his throat. Should he ask? He could make something up, but it wouldn’t sound genuine and Matt would know. But how the hell did he ask without sounding like he was just trying to dig into Matthew’s private life or like he was jealous that Francis might have done something? He didn’t want to sound like an asshole, but he was really curious, and he wanted to know so that he wouldn’t stumble into things later on. How the hell did he ask?

Fuck. Damn it.

“Gilbert?” Matthew was concerned now, was sitting up so he could face the albino. “What’s wrong?”

Panicking and trying not to show it because he didn’t know how to ask and he _really_ didn’t want to fuck up his own birthday, Gilbert forced a smile to his face. “I vas just vondering if you’re happier vizh me zhan you vere vizh Francis.” That was a reasonable thing to wonder about, right? He could ask that without it being weird.

For a moment, Matthew just looked at him. “What?”

Shit. Uh…

“Vhen you vere dating Francis, you vere happy, _ja?_ ”

“Yes, I was.”

“Are you happy now?”

Obviously confused, Matt frowned. “Why are you asking me that? Of course I’m happy now.”

“I just vant to make sure. I know I’m not as polite or as charming as Francis.” He could play this off. He could definitely play this off. They’d just talk about some of his other insecurities. Yeah.

The frown softened until Matt looked more amused than anything. “Why would that matter? I liked you before and I like you now, bad manners and all.” He smiled, making it clear that he was teasing, and Gilbert felt himself grinning.

“Zhat’s good. I vas going to say I vould vork on being charming, but I von’t, if zhat’s vhat you vant.”

“Ehh, they could probably use a little work.”

Gilbert chuckled at that, and the tension that’d been slowly building began to fade. “Fair enough. You’ll tell me, zhough, if somezhing’s wrong? I don’t vant to push zhings too fast, but I don’t vant to make you vait if you’re ready, eizher.”

“Gil,” Matt smiled softly, his brow furrowing a little as he looked down at his blanket-covered lap, “I know you have a lot more experience with…relationships, and all, and I don’t want to be boring or a prude or anything, but it might take me a while to get used to the idea of being physically intimate. I don’t want you to think it’s your fault or that I don’t want to. I do. I just never have before and never really had a chance to.”

_He didn’t do anyzhing vizh Francis._

It probably shouldn’t have made him happy, but it did. Not because he would’ve been jealous—he would’ve been and there was no denying it—or because he still wasn’t completely sold on the idea of trusting the Frenchman. Sure, he’d obviously matured since they were friends, and Matt had been happy with him, but Gilbert had to be a little suspicious, if only because of the texts Francis had sent him last semester. That wasn’t quite it, either, though. Maybe it was just that Matthew hadn’t been sexual with someone he wasn’t in love with. Yeah, that was probably it. The blond didn’t seem the type to do anything if he wasn’t absolutely sure, and Gil was happy about that. He needed someone less impulsive than himself to keep him grounded.

“I’m not going to zhink zhat, Mattie. It vouldn’t be fair to eizher of us. Ve’ll just do vhatever ve’re bozh comfortable vizh, and nozhing else, all right?”

Lifting his chin so that his gaze met Gilbert’s, Matthew smiled. “All right.”

Gilbert leaned and kissed the blond’s forehead. “ _Gut._ ” He felt better now that they’d talked about it a little bit, and it’d given him time to calm back down. There would (hopefully) be no more embarrassing himself tonight. So he gathered Matt close again and nuzzled into the blond’s scarf—he would’ve kissed his neck if not for the bulky layers of fabric in his way—arms secure around the Canadian’s middle, and let himself relax to enjoy the night.

Slowly, the candles burned lower and lower, until one, then two, then three of the smallest went out on their own. The little space the two students were sharing dimmed ever so slightly with each loss, until Gilbert finally noticed that the shadows were just a bit deeper, and their light was a bit softer.

“Matt.”

Dozing peacefully, the blond didn’t move when Gilbert said his name.

“Hey, Mattie,” he spoke a little louder this time, and shook Matt’s shoulder gently, “wake up.”

The Canadian’s eyelids pulled as if fighting to stay closed then popped open, his pupils dilating to adjust to the candlelight and nearby streetlamps, before he looked up at Gilbert sleepily.

It wasn’t fair. How was anyone this cute? When Gilbert first woke up, he acted like he’d been on a three-day booze binge and miraculously regained consciousness on the fourth day just in time to stumble back into life. It wasn’t a pretty sight. But here Matthew was, blinking up at him, sleepy and a little disoriented, his hat crooked over his hair and ears. What right did the Canadian have to make Gil’s chest feel like it was about to burst?

_Zhis is entirely unfair._

Slowly, Matt’s brow furrowed, and soon his expression was the closest thing to a pout that Gilbert had ever seen on the soft-spoken blond. “What?” He was almost whining, his tone mulish. “Why are you staring?”

Gilbert was sorely tempted to say that he was staring because Matt was too fuckin’ cute, but he resisted. He had the feeling that Matt either wouldn’t understand or would get embarrassed and turn too shy to so much as talk, which he didn’t want. So he just grinned and shuffled his arms, squeezing Matt to his chest.

“I vasn’t staring, I didn’t realize you vere avake.” It was easy to lie to the blond when he was mostly asleep, and the pout quickly vanished.

“Oh.”

“It’s getting pretty cold—ve should go back inside.”

Matt blinked then nodded, and Gilbert somewhat reluctantly let him go so they both could pull their boots back on.

“Do ve take all zhis vizh us?”

“Yeah.” Moving slowly, the younger student laced up his boots and pushed himself to his feet, swayed just a little, then started gathering the blankets into his arms. Gilbert took it upon himself to blow out and gather all the candles, and stuffed them into his jacket pockets so he could help Matt carry the blankets. It didn’t occur to him then that he’d end up with wax all over the insides of his pockets, but if it had then he’d have just resigned himself to asking Matt to help him clean it out later—the blond probably knew how, and Gilbert definitely didn’t. But that would be something to realize and figure out in the morning. Now, in the dark and quiet, all he thought about was how Matthew fit into the curve of his arm as they walked, steps almost in time but not quite because their legs were different sizes, but they swayed together anyway, both almost dozing and more ready to fall into bed than either of them consciously realized.


	35. Chapter 35

This was it. After nearly a full month of planning and practicing, today was the day Antonio was going to win Lovino over and get the moody Italian out of Gilbert and Ludwig’s room.

“ _Amigos,_ are you sure about this?” The green-eyed brunet was uncomfortable to find himself surrounded by his friends as they herded him across campus like a reluctant heifer. “I don’t know how confident I am in this plan.”

With a firm grip on the Spaniard’s arm, Alfred was in the lead and clearly not about to let Antonio change his mind. “Well I’ve got enough confidence for both of us, so don’t worry about it. You’re a charming guy and you’ve got us—what can go wrong?” His reassurances did little to make Antonio feel better, but any chance he’d had at calling it off was gone. The group was within sight of the dorm hall now, and lights shone through the windows of Ludwig and gilbert’s dorm, bright against the darkening evening.

“Okay,” Alfred lowered his voice conspiratorially and turned to face his entourage, “Gil, you got the music, right?”

The albino gave a thumb’s up, a stereo in one hand. “ _Ja._ ”

“Antonio, get your iPod ready, and watch for the signal. We need them to sync up.”

“ _Si…_ ” Still very unsure about all of this, Antonio pulled his iPod from his pocket and began scrolling through his songs, looking for the right one. His nerves made his fingers shake and he nearly selected the wrong title several times before he finally found the one he wanted and played it, pausing it right away and sliding it back to the beginning so it would be ready to go when Alfred gave him the signal.

“Zhis had better work,” Gilbert muttered to Matthew once the group finally reached the dorm hall, and the blond nodded before moving off out of sight with everyone except Gilbert, Alfred, Francis, and Antonio.

“Okay, dude, put in that earbud and get your charm flowin’. Gilbert,” the bespectacled blond turned his attention to the male he’d addressed.

“Got it.” Without further instruction, the white-haired student was gone, disappearing into the dorm hall and heading for the elevator.

“We’ve got five minutes, max. You warmed up?” Alfred returned his focus to the brunet while Matthew, Arthur, Yao, and Ivan set up the equipment they’d brought with them.

“Alfred, I still don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“It’s going to be great, all right? Just put that magical Spanish Casanova thing you’ve got to good use and win him over. He’ll be in love with you by midnight.”

Antonio sighed and looked up at the lit window, still nowhere close to convinced, but willing to try. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I am! Look,” Alfred pointed up at the window as it began to open, figures visible through the glass, “Gilbert got him to come and see. You ready?”

Taking a deep breath, the Spaniard looked up at the window and fidgeted to see two faces staring down at him curiously. Even in the dimming light he knew it was Feliciano and Lovino, wondering what the hell he was doing standing outside like this. If he was ever going to convince Lovino to give him a chance, this was it. Another deep breath steadied him and Antonio nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Mattie?”

“We’re all set.” The Canadian finished checking over the equipment then handed the mic and a remote control to Antonio. “Break a leg.”

The Spaniard swallowed nervously. “Thanks.”

“Now, remember,” Francis spoke up for the first time, his arms full of the typical Valentine’s Day date supplies, “I’m going to put zhese in your car, so zhey are zhere when you and Lovino are ready to leave. I’ll leave zhe doors unlocked for you, too.”

“Give him your keys, Tonio.” It wasn’t a request, and Antonio merely glanced at his American friend resignedly before digging his keys out of his pocket and handing them to Francis.

“ _Merci._ Alfred, I trust you have everyzhing under control?”

The bespectacled student grinned, hands on his hips. “You bet! We’re ready to serenade Lovino until dawn if that’s what it takes!”

“I hope not,” Antonio muttered, too softly for anyone to hear him.

Smiling softly, Francis patted the Spaniard’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sure everyzhing will be fine, Antonio. Good luck.” With the brunet’s keys in hand, Francis left the group and headed towards the parking lot. His job was to stash the flowers and box of chocolates in Antonio’s car so Lovino would have them on their way to the date they’d all worked to set up. Reservations at a small but tasteful restaurant, curtesy of Francis, where they could enjoy their date without having to endure the Valentine’s Day crowds, followed by tickets to a symphony that was playing later tonight—they’d been procured by Alfred’s parents so he could take Arthur, but he’d generously handed them onto Antonio in the case that Lovino agreed to go out. The two might be a little underdressed for the occasion, but that was all right. After the concert, it was up to Antonio what he and the Italian would do next. His friends had done more than enough to get him on his way.

“All right, here we go!” Alfred led the way and the five college students left Antonio alone in a pool of light provided by the campus’ lamps.

Clutching the mic nervously, Antonio glanced up at the window again before fumbling with his iPod and the remote Matthew had given him. Pointing the remote at the equipment his friends had set up, he clicked Play on both devices then tucked them into his coat pockets for safe keeping and to free up his hands for the mic. Simultaneously, music played from the speakers set up behind him as well as in his ear, familiar after the hours of practicing he’d been put through in order to prepare him for this.

He counted carefully, keeping track of the beat, then opened his mouth and began to sing in a soft, wavering voice.

“ _Yo te quiero regalar palabras,_ ” the first few notes came out quietly as if Antonio were afraid of being too loud, his eyes closed in concentration. It wasn’t long before he got a hold of himself, however, and then his voice began to sound out strong and clear as he sang, “ _ser tu red para cuando caigas, cogerte de la mano al andar. Y decirte cosas al oído, ser tu manta cuando tengas frío y ser tu hombro para llorar._

“ _Por ti mi vida empeño, por un momento de verte sonreír. Por ti mi alma vendo, a cambio del tiempo que necesites para ser feliz._

“ _Dejo todo por un beso tuyo, quiero ser tu espada y tu escudo, decirte que te quiero una vez más. Quiero ser tus alas y tu cielo, quiero ser el mar y tu velero, el suelo y tus pies para caminar._

“ _Por ti mi vida empeño, por un momento de verte sonreír. Por ti mi alma vendo, a cambio del tiempo que necesites para ser feliz.”Antonio trailed off and let the music finish out before he lowered the microphone and opened his eyes to look back up at the window. Only Feliciano stared back at him, a wide, happy smile on his face. But Lovino was missing, and it felt like someone had punched him in the gut as soon as Antonio realized that the Italian he’d come here to win over was nowhere to be seen. Had he gotten annoyed and not even bothered to listen to the entire thing?_

With a sigh, the brunet pulled the remote from his pocket and turned off the stereo system Alfred had made them haul out there for his pointless performance. It was going to be a pain taking it back to the American’s dorm, and he didn’t even have anything to show for it. Lovino hadn’t cared. This entire thing had been doomed from the start.

“Hey, _bastardo._ ”

Surprise made Antonio pause before he turned around, and he was stunned to find Lovino standing only a few feet away, bundled against the cold and scuffing his boot against the pavement, his cheeks flushed as he glared at the sidewalk.

The taller brunet was speechless for nearly a full minute before his vocal cords remembered how to work. “Lovino, I…didn’t think you listened…” Well, partially work.

“I did. Would’ve been a lot better if I spoke Spanish.”

“Oh. Right.” Now Antonio’s face began to redden. “But…did you like it? Will you go out with me?”

“Assuming you just serenaded me like a chump…” Shy, Lovino glanced at Antonio before looking away again. “ _Si._ ”

At least two seconds passed before it really sank in that Lovino had said yes, and then a wide grin overtook Antonio’s features.

“ _Fantastico!_ ” It took all of his self-control to keep from grabbing the Italian and spinning him around out of joy. Lovino said yes! “You won’t regret it, Lovi! I promise!”

The nickname re-enforced the blush already on Lovino’s cheeks and he muttered in Italian, presumably cursing the enthusiastic Spaniard. Antonio wasn’t the least put off by it, practically bounding to the smaller brunet’s side. His sudden closeness seemed to make Lovino nervous, but Antonio smiled at him and gently captured his hand.

“Can I kiss your cheek?”

“ _S-si._ ”

His grin returned and Antonio leaned down, placing a light kiss on the Italian’s warm olive-tone cheek. “ _Gracias._ ”

“ _Prego,_ ” Lovino muttered, his face, ears, and neck practically flaming. But he hadn’t pulled his hand free of Antonio’s grasp or moved away, and that was more than enough for the Spaniard.

Turning, Antonio picked up Lovino’s other hand and lifted them both, kissing the shorter brunet’s fingers. “Will you be my Valentine, Lovino?”

It probably wasn’t possible for him to blush any harder than he did then. “ _S-si…bastardo,_ ” the curse was added almost as an afterthought, completely free of malice or anger.

“ _Gracias._ ” Antonio kissed his new Valentine’s fingers again, smiling fondly at the hazel-eyed brunet. “I have a date planned, if you want to go.”

Lovino hesitated for half a second, his eyes flicking back to where Feliciano was still watching from the window, then gave a small nod and allowed Antonio to start leading him away from the dorm hall, towards the parking lot where the Spaniard’s car was waiting. The rest of the evening would be up to them—this was as far as Matthew and the others had planned to stick around and provide support for their friend.

Standing by his brother and friends, Matt couldn’t help but think that they were going to be so cute together. A spirited Spaniard and a moody Italian. What could be better?

Unexpected touches to his sides and stomach made the bespectacled Canadian jump, and he very nearly fell forward. Would have, if not for the arms now wrapped securely around his middle.

“Gilbert!” Matthew addressed the grinning older student. “You scared me half to death!”

The albino shrugged, chin resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’m not vorried so long as it vas only half.” His response earned rolled eyes from Matthew, but he wasn’t put off in the slightest by it. How could he be, when he had his arms around his boyfriend, and they were going on a double date with Alfred and Arthur now that they’d gotten Lovino to _finally_ go out with Antonio? It just wasn’t possible; today was too great for anything to get to him.

“I suppose we should get that back to your room,” Arthur commented, breaking the silence, his attention directed to the equipment they’d brought out for Antonio to use.

“Yeah,” Alfred was reluctant, “but it’ll be quick if Yao and—hey,” the American frowned as he noticed that two of his friends were nowhere to be seen. “Where’d Ivan and Yao go?”

“You didn’t notice zhem slip away?” Francis, who had returned just before the end of Antonio’s song, chuckled at Alfred’s blank look, shaking his head. “You ‘ave a boyfriend, Alfred, et you didn’t zhink your friends might also ‘ave plans for zhis evening?”

“Well, yea, but—Ivan and Yao?” The blue-eyed blond was flabbergasted by the thought of his two friends having plans for Valentine’s Day, much less with each other…it was too weird! “I didn’t even know they were dating,” he was vaguely defensive, expression turning to something very similar to a pout.

“Zhey aren’t,” Francis was completely unaffected by the other male’s tone, “but Valentine’s Day is a good opportunity for trying new zhings.”

“Clearly.” Amused by his boyfriend’s nonplussed behavior, Arthur stepped away from the taller blond and moved towards the machines Antonio had left behind. “Let’s just get this taken care of so we can go.”

Alfred practically jumped at the opportunity to think about something other than what Ivan and Yao were up to. He hurried to help Arthur with the speakers, leaving Matthew, Francis, and Gilbert standing together nearby.

Awkward.

Shifting in Gilbert’s arms, Matthew glanced at the Frenchman uncertainly. Should he say something? It was Valentine’s Day, after all, but Francis was his ex…

 _It was a mutual break up,_ the blond reminded himself. _He understood and we’re still friends. Just say something._

The quiet of the evening stretched on as he tried to come up with something suitable.

“Do you have any plans for tonight, Francis?” he asked eventually, soft and unsure. Was it inappropriate to ask his ex-boyfriend if the man was dating anyone else?

“ _Moi?_ ” The Frenchman smiled to himself, eyes closing as he tilted his head down slightly. “ _Non,_ I’m afraid not.” His head lifted and he looked at Matthew, eyes sad even though he continued to smile. “I find it difficult to imagine ‘aving a Valentine, lately.”

“Oh.” It was all Matt could manage to say—was that because of him? Had Francis agreed to break up even though he’d known he wouldn’t move on for a while? Matt and Gilbert had started dating immediately, but Francis was still alone. It made Matthew feel guilty. He had Gilbert, Al and Arthur had each other, Antonio finally had Lovino and even Yao and Ivan were testing the waters. But Francis, seemingly the most datable member of their group, was spending Valentine’s Day alone.

Matthew hesitated for just a few seconds before pulling free of Gilbert’s arms and approaching his sad-eyed friend. Slipping his arms around the blond Frenchman’s neck, he hugged Francis tightly.

“ _Joyeuse saint Valentin, Francois._ ” He placed a light kiss on the older boy’s cheek as he pulled away, smiling sadly when Francis’ hands brushed against his sides as if they wanted nothing more than to draw the Canadian close again. Their eyes met, just for half a breath, then Matthew went back to Gilbert and took his hand, holding it firmly. A brief glance was exchanged between Prussian and Frenchman; silent, Francis turned and disappeared into the night’s falling darkness while Gilbert and Matthew went to help Alfred and Arthur haul Al’s stereo back to their dorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re curious about the song Antonio performed, it’s _Por Ti_ by Ella Baila Sola. The best translation I found is here: http://lyricstranslate.com/en/por-ti-you.html-5


	36. Chapter 36

Lights passed steadily by outside the windows, shining overhead from the streetlamps. Matthew’s eyes tracked them, pupils struggling to keep up with the sudden shifts between dark night sky and bright light. The radio was on low, filling the near-silence with vaguely recognizable music. Idle, his thumb caressed the back of Gilbert’s hand.

“Hope you guys are hungry!” Alfred’s cheerful voice came from the front seat. “This place is the best in town!”

Of course it was. An outing with Alfred was never affordable—or rather, it wouldn’t be if the blond American didn’t insist on paying for almost everything.

“Al,” Matt pulled his gaze away from the streetlights, “are you sure about this?”

Blue eyes glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “About what?”

“Buying four dinners. Gil and I should be able to pay for ours.” The pair in the backseat exchanged looks—knowing Alfred, they’d have to be careful about ordering if they were going to have enough between them.

“Don’t even think about it, Mattie!” If he hadn’t been driving, Alfred would have twisted around in his seat to make sure Matthew understood how serious he was. “If I have to make you pinky-promise, I will!”

“Alfred,” Arthur began to chide his boyfriend from the front passenger seat while Gilbert leaned closer to Matthew in the back.

“Vhat does he mean by zhat?”

With a sigh, the bespectacled blond watched his brother bicker with Arthur. “I tried talking Al out of paying for us earlier today and he threatened to bring a marker along to block out the prices on the menu.”

“Don’t think I won’t borrow a pen from the staff!”

Gilbert chuckled even as Arthur huffed in exasperation in the front passenger seat.

“All right, Alfred. Ve von’t look at zhe prices.”

“Ha!” Victorious, the blond grinned at Matthew’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “Gil’s on my side!”

Narrowing his eyes, Matthew gently elbowed Gilbert in the ribs. “Traitor,” he muttered, scowling as he was pulled closer by the albino and the side of his face was peppered with kisses.

“I’m sure you’ll forgive me.”

“Nope. Never.”

“Liar.” Gilbert nuzzled into the blond’s cheek, still grinning. “Ve both know you can’t stay mad at me, _vogel._ ”

Since he didn’t trust himself to respond—he could feel himself blushing from Gilbert’s displays of affection—Matthew settled for a small, disgruntled growl that only earned him another kiss to his cheek.

“You’re being extra affectionate tonight,” he commented softly, trying not to disturb the quiet darkness that had filled the car now that Alfred was satisfied with his victory. It wasn’t to say that Gilbert was usually unaffectionate, but this was different from normal.

“Isn’t zhat zhe point of Valentine’s Day?” the albino asked, his tone playful.

“Well, yes, but I didn’t expect it from you.”

“You don’t zhink I vant to make tonight special?” Gilbert was teasing him, obviously, but Matthew still struggled to come up with a response.

“No, I know you do, it’s just that we don’t have jobs. I wasn’t expecting anything extravagant.” A simple date would have been good enough for him. He’d never had a Valentine before, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. His school hadn’t paid much attention to it, and it wasn’t a holiday he and his mother had ever really celebrated. “I’d have been more than happy to stay in and watch a movie.”

“But ve do zhat all zhe time,” Gilbert countered. “Valentine’s Day is an excuse to do somezhing special togezher, _ja?_ ”

Matthew sighed and allowed a small smile. “ _Oui,_ you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Grinning, Gilbert puffed his chest out and angled his shoulders in a pose that was probably meant to be impressive. “I’m alvays right.”

With a laugh, Matthew gave the older male a playful shove before allowing himself to be pulled into a soft, short kiss.

“Break it up, lovebirds!” Alfred’s voice interrupted from the front of the car. “We’re here!”

Together, Matthew and Gilbert leaned to look out the car’s windows. Alfred had pulled into the parking lot of a rather large, fancy-looking restaurant. It had two, possibly three, stories, a stonework exterior, and Matt could see a chandelier through the large windows that made up most of the building’s front.

“Whoa, Al, are you sure about this place? It looks really expensive,” Matthew pointed out, decidedly not sure about it.

“Yeah!” The blue-eyed blond was confident as he turned into a parking space. “It’ll be great, you’ll see.” Alfred put the car in park and shut the engine off as his passengers unbuckled their seatbelts. He still managed to be the first person out of the car, bounding around the front to be there the moment Arthur had shut his own door, and offered his arm with a grin. Even as he rolled his eyes, Arthur blushed and rested his hand in the crook of Alfred’s elbow.

Matthew, meanwhile, was too busy staring up at the restaurant to notice his brother’s flirting, only looking away when he felt a hand on the small of his back. His attention turned to Gilbert, expression dubious. “I’ve never been anywhere like this,” he admitted quietly, leaning into the comfort of the albino’s arm.

“Me neizher. It’ll be fine.” Gilbert offered a reassuring smile as Alfred and Arthur came around the car.

“Come on, it’s freezing!” The bespectacled blond led the way into the restaurant, confidently approaching the greeter’s podium. “Reservation for Jones, party of four!”

His attention once again captured by the restaurant, Matthew was guided along by Gilbert as the group was led farther into the building. They were taken to a table set near the windows, covered with a red table cloth and with three glowing white candles in the center. Napkins folded into the shape of hearts sat atop each spotless plate, and the silverware glinted in the candlelight, which, aside from the chandelier, seemed to be the only source of light in the place. It was all very romantic and, Matthew thought, sort of overdone. He knew Americans took Valentine’s Day seriously, but this was a bit much. And, from what he could see, the bigger tables had even more decorations—he was pretty sure the tables set by the windows had rose petals scattered on them. He’d never seen anything like it in his life.

“So,” Alfred was grinning as he pulled out one of the chairs for Arthur, “whaddya think?”

Obviously pleased, Arthur sat and allowed his chair to be pushed in for him, the candlelight betraying the pink tinge in his face. “It’s lovely, Alfred.”

Matthew cast an uncertain glace towards Gilbert as the albino pulled out a chair for him, as well. “ _Merci._ ” He sat and tried not to look too out of place while Gil pushed in his chair.

“ _Bitte._ ”

While Alfred and Gilbert took their own respective seats, Matt surveyed the table once again. Were they supposed to use these fancy folded napkins? Someone had obviously put quite a bit of time into folding them all so neatly; he felt bad that they’d be ruining all that hard work. It all seemed so impractical and overdone, but the others clearly didn’t think so. No one else in the restaurant appeared to find it at all strange, so Matt kept his thoughts to himself. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful to Alfred for offering to bring him and Gilbert out to celebrate.

Within moments of the four of them having settled into their chairs, a waiter appeared beside their table, all dressed in neat black and crisp white, a linen draped over one arm and four menus in hand. “Your menus, gentlemen,” he said politely, handing them out. “May I start you off with some beverages?”

The four of them looked at each other, realizing all at once that the only one among them who was legally old enough to order alcohol was Gilbert. He spoke first.

“Just vater vizh lemon for me, please,” he told the waiter with a smile, and the others chimed in that they would like the same. Matthew, secretly, was relieved that they wouldn’t all be about to order elegant beverages he’d never heard of before. Lemon water he could handle.

“I’ll be back with those in just a moment,” the waiter promised as he marked the waters down on the little pad of paper he’d retrieved from the pocket of his apron. Then he smiled, bowed slightly, and walked away, leaving them to look over their menus.

Alfred was the first to open his, though his attention was on his little brother. “Remember, no looking at the prices!”

Matthew could have winced. This place was guaranteed to be far more expensive than anything he’d ever owned. He could already feel his pulse picking up nervously as he opened his menu and scanned its contents. Despite Alfred’s warning, his eyes were drawn towards the numbers beside the menu items and he quickly found himself choking on air.

“Seventy-five dollars for steak?!” the blond wheezed, trying to keep his voice down, but unable to keep it from hitting a higher octave than normal.

“ _Scheisse,_ ” Gilbert muttered beside him, looking over his own menu with clear alarm. “I don’t zhink I’ve ever spent zhis much on a date, I’d never spend zhis much on a meal for vone person.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not,” Alfred pointed out, smiling crookedly. “I offered to bring you guys out because I want my little bro to have a good Valentine’s Day, and ‘cause I can afford this. It’s a special occasion—quit worrying about the prices and order something you think sounds good.”

Looking at Gilbert in time to see him nod, Matthew was a little bit worried about the slight creases in his boyfriend’s forehead. They were faint, caused by his eyebrows pulling together ever so slightly, but they were there. He’d have to remember to ask later if something was bothering him.

He pulled his attention back to the group and offered a smile to his older brother. “Thanks, Al.”

The American grinned. “No problem, Mattie.”

Before he could say anything else, the waiter reappeared beside his chair, this time carrying a silver tray with four tall glasses balanced on top. Each was filled almost to the brim with water and ice, and had a slice of lemon on the rim.

“Lemon waters!” he announced cheerfully, circling the table and carefully placing a drink before each of them. Then the tray was tucked under his arm and the little notepad was back in his hand. “Now, ready to order? Appetizers? Or do you need a few more minutes?”

“The grilled artichoke hearts sound good,” Alfred supplied, and the waiter marked it down.

“Anything else for you, sirs?”

Arthur leaned close to Alfred and pointed at something on the menu.

“And the shrimp cocktail,” he added.

“Excellent choices!” He looked at Matthew and Gilbert long enough for the pair to shake their heads. “Those will be out in just a few minutes!”

Well, he was definitely a much friendlier waiter than Matthew had interacted with at the cheaper places he’d eaten at since coming to America. Even the restaurant Alfred had chosen to eat at with his parents when they picked Matthew up at the airport at the end of winter break hadn’t been like this. Other waiters had been polite, courteous, sometimes a bit dull or disinterested, but this man was far more enthusiastic and charming than normal. Maybe that was just part of the expensive dining experience. The restaurant owners probably didn’t want to hire sub-par waitstaff if they were going to charge so much for their food.

“Matt,” the blond was drawn out of his contemplation of American dining service by the sound of his name and looked up to find Gilbert watching him, “do you know vhat you vant?”

“Oh, um,” he looked at his menu, worried now that he’d been so distracted that everyone was ready to order but him, “the Atlantic salmon sounds good.” A glance up confirmed that the others had put their menus down and were apparently waiting on him to decide.

“Is zhat vhat you vant?” Gilbert was looking at him with concern now.

Matthew skimmed over the menu again—checking the prices more than anything—and nodded. “ _Oui._ ”

“Great! Then we’re all decided.” Pleased with himself for having organized this outing, Alfred relaxed in his chair and draped an arm around the back of Arthur’s.

It was quiet then; none of them really knew what to say next. Asking each other about class would be boring. They all did homework together regularly, so it would be repetitive to talk about it. Besides, this was an elegant restaurant, and it was Valentine’s Day. Shouldn’t they talk about something other than school?

Fidgeting under the table where no one would notice, Matt conjured up a smile. “This place is really nice, Al. How’d you find it?”

The American grinned and shrugged nonchalantly. “Guys like me are good at planning dates, Matt.”

“Oh, is that why when you asked me out last year, we went to the movies and got kicked out because you tried to sneak in a bunch of candy?” Arthur asked, making an embarrassed blush creep up Alfred’s neck.

The bespectacled blond pulled his arm away from Arthur and folded them over his chest as he slouched in his chair and looked away, sulking. “And then you didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

“You did get me banned from the movie theater.”

“On accident!”

Arthur smiled and leaned over to kiss his disgruntled boyfriend’s cheek. “At least I forgave you.”

The sidelong scowl Alfred gave him made it clear that he wasn’t about to forgive the reminder of his embarrassment so easily.

“Hey, come on,” Arthur was wheedling now, placing a beseeching hand on Alfred’s arm, “aren’t I allowed to tease you?”

Grumbling, Alfred turned his head away, and Matthew held in a sigh over his brother’s childish antics. Being in such an expensive, ornate restaurant like this one apparently did nothing to deter the American.

“Oh, Alfred, please,” Arthur had dropped the teasing tone.

Matthew almost didn’t notice Gilbert leaning closer to him until the Prussian spoke.

“I vonder if zhis sort of zhing happens at all of zheir dates,” he murmured, clearly amused. Matt fought back a laugh for Alfred’s sake.

“I hope not,” he whispered back, careful not to let his expression change too much. It was probably sort of rude to borderline gossip about his half-brother’s relationship while sharing a table with him on a double-date. Especially on Valentine’s Day when Alfred was the one paying for it.

Both males straightened in their chairs as Arthur managed to pull a smile out of his disgruntled boyfriend.

“So,” Alfred seemed almost instantaneously cheerful again, thanks to whatever Arthur had been saying to him, “anyone have good plans for spring break next month?” No one responded right away, each too busy considering the question, then Al continued, “Artie and I are going on a cruise! My parents were gonna go, but Dad got tied up with work—some big scandal to deal with, I think—so they gave us their tickets. It’s gonna be awesome!”

“As long as I manage to avoid any severe sunburns,” Arthur added on, mostly joking.

“I’ll help you with your sunscreen,” Alfred offered, flirting. Arthur only nodded, his lips twitching towards a smile. “So,” his brother’s blue eyes made Matthew feel exposed when Al turned to look at him, “are you going home over break again?”

Shifting in his seat, Matt nodded. “ _Oui._ But there’s no flight until Monday.”

“Did you apply to stay on campus over the weekend?”

“No, it was too expensive for just a couple days. It’s cheaper to stay in a hotel closer to the airport.”

“Dad could’ve paid for it,” Al pointed out. “He wouldn’t mind.”

His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, but he didn’t say anything. Matt had thought about that, too. His father could easily pay any fees that came up. He still hadn’t considered it beyond the initial recognition, though. Talking to his mom and planning his trip home was one thing. Calling his father to ask for money was beyond him.

“Matt,” Alfred’s voice was softer this time, “he really wouldn’t mind.”

_He’s your dad._

“I know.”

He did know that. He knew George was his dad, but that didn’t change anything. For the first seventeen years of his life, he’d been the only child to a single mother living in alone in the mountains near Whistler, alone but for his mom’s sled dogs and Kuma. Now he was eighteen years old, attending college in the US with his older half-brother, and not paying a dime because he’d suddenly been introduced to his wealthy American father. He’d only met George a few times, had barely even spoken to the man. How was he supposed to call a practical stranger and ask for money? George would probably go for it without hesitation, but what about Elizabeth? She didn’t like Matthew at all. If he called just to ask for money to go visit home, she would think he was greedy, or selfish, or taking advantage of George’s money. She already had a grudge against him—there was no reason for him to give her more excuse to be so cold.

Looking at his younger half-brother with clear understanding of why Matthew hadn’t chosen to include their dad in his plans, Alfred tried to smile reassuringly. “I can call him, if you want.”

“No, that’s okay.” If Alfred called, then George and Elizabeth might still think he was selfish, but also a coward for not having the guts to ask them himself. “I don’t mind the hotel. Mom already transferred the money.” Matthew took a drink of his water, not meeting his brother’s concerned gaze, and focused on setting the glass down again rather than look at anyone. They probably looked concerned for him, or even like they pitied him, and he didn’t want to see it.

Beneath the table, he felt Gilbert’s hand settle over his own, warm and comforting, and immediately laced his fingers through the older male’s with a grateful squeeze.

When their waiter appeared less than a minute later, carrying a large tray bearing their appetizers, Matthew was more than happy for the change in conversation.


	37. Chapter 37

_“I do. I hate it. Now will you help me?”_

_“I will. After soccer.”_

_“I don’t like soccer.”_

_“Nobody likes soccer.”_

_“Fine.”_

Gilbert wasn’t entirely sure what was going on in this movie anymore. There were multiple plots, all the characters seemed to know each other, and the sudden scene changes didn’t always make sense. It was confusing. And he couldn’t focus, anyway.

Some romantic comedy this was turning out to be. Maybe he shouldn’t have followed Alfred’s suggestion.

To be fair, he probably would have liked the movie a lot more if he could’ve paid attention and kept up with all the different characters. At the moment, he was definitely distracted. Matthew was being really distracting. Not on purpose, but still. It was a lot easier to think about the blond curled up against him than to watch a movie. He was just so warm, and sharing the futon like this was better than any movie.

Through a strange series of events, the pair had ended up with Gilbert and Ludwig’s room for the night. Ludwig had gone to Feliciano’s, since Lovino had messaged his brother that he would be out late, with no specified time of return. How Antonio had managed to pull that off, Gilbert wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He looked back to the movie in time to see a teenage boy leading a teenage girl into the woods. If this wasn’t a sappy romcom, he’d have expected an awkward sex scene before sudden bloody murders by the shadowy villain character. Instead, there was a makeshift bed set up—pillows, blankets, sleeping bags—surrounded by a bunch of flowers the boy had obviously arranged. It looked especially sappy and romantic.

_“_ This _is your big idea?”_ The girl wasn’t impressed.

_“Yeah.”_

_“You want me to do it here? in the woods?”_

_“It’s rustic. And romantic. It’s romantically rustic.”_

“With random people twenty feet away?”

_“No, I checked. I’ve been screaming obscenities for an hour. There’s no way they can hear us.”_

_“So, let me get this straight. You really thought that I was going to come back in here the woods and_ have sex with you, _outdoors, while I left alone the ten-year-old boy who I’m responsible for? Just left him alone out there? You thought that would be fun for me? You think that’s romantic?”_

The boy looked hurt. _“I promised I’d figure it out.”_

His girlfriend was pissed. _“You know, for a Valedictorian, you’re a_ huge idiot! _”_ She stormed off, leaving her boyfriend alone in the woods.

“Vhat zhe _fuck!?_ ” Gilbert burst out, startling Matthew.

“What?”

“She’s such a bitch! He vas trying!”

Matthew sat up, jostled by Gilbert’s overly enthused anger. “She was nannying, though. She really couldn’t just leave the kid.”

“He vas in _soccer practice!_ Vizh a coach and ozher children! _Und she’s_ zhe vone putting all zhe pressure on zhis happening today! As if a stupid holiday like zhat should matter vhen you have sex!” He stopped, frozen, the movie still playing, forgotten. Slowly, he looked at Matthew. “I mean—zhere’s nozhing _wrong_ vizh vanting to make it special—but sex for zhe first time—forcing it like zhat—all zhe pressure—getting mad at him—”

The older boy was floundering, his face turning redder and redder the longer he talked.

“I just zhink it’s a bitchy zhing to do. Rushing him like zhat. Pressuring him to make it vork. He’s trying for her _und_ she’s ungrateful. I’d dump her.”

Matthew looked amused. “So, if I set up a romantically rustic bed in the woods, you’d sleep with me?”

Now Gilbert’s ears were as red as his face. “ _Nein!_ Zhat’s not vhat I mean!” A pause. “I mean, maybe. I vould. I don’t know. I haven’t zhought about it.” Uncomfortable with this shift in conversation, Gilbert looked at the floor. “I just zhink, if you really love somevone, zhat it should happen naturally. Not stressed out _und_ squeezed in. Zhat’s not healzhy. She’s trying to force it _und_ blaming him vhen it doesn’t vork, but it’s her fault. It vas her idea. It’s her schedule zhey have to vork around.”

“She wants it to be special.”

“Vell, she’s going to be disappointed. It doesn’t vork like zhis,” he uttered, gesturing at the T.V. “Trust me.”

The sudden bitterness in Gilbert’s voice stole the amusement from Matthew’s expression, replaced it with concern.

“Are you all right, Gilbert?” he asked softly, keeping his attention on the other boy even as he reached for the remote and paused the movie. It was quiet for a moment.

“I just vant to do zhis right,” Gilbert finally managed, still not looking at the younger boy. “I’ve never done it right before.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Gilbert shook his head. “It’s not vorzh telling. I just…messed up. A lot. I don’t vant to mess zhis up, too.” He scoffed, self-deprecating. “Not again, I mean.”

“You didn’t mess anything up, Gil.”

“Like hell I didn’t.”

“Okay, maybe we both messed up. But we worked it out, right?”

“ _Ja._ ”

“And we’re dating now.”

“ _Ja._ ”

“So, doesn’t that prove that even if we mess up again, we can work it out and be okay?”

“ _Ja,_ I guess, but—”

“No,” Matthew interrupted, “no ‘but’s.” I want to date you. I wanted to date you all along. You’ll have to mess up unbelievably badly to change that.”

“ _Und_ if I do?”

“I’m really not worried about that, Gil. But if you hurt me, I’m pretty sure Alfred would kill you.”

That, at least, got a laugh out of his unusually serious boyfriend.

“Fair enough.”

“Besides,” Matthew smiled and set a hand on Gilbert’s knee, leaning close, “you’ve made a lot of good changes since then. You’re doing better than ever, and I’m lucky to have you.” He kissed the albino’s flushed cheek before settling against him again.

His face now an embarrassed, flustered pink rather than the angry red it had been mere minutes ago, Gilbert sat still for a few seconds before finally putting his arm back around Matthew’s shoulders and relaxing into the futon.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, before Matthew leaned to reach for the remote again. “Ready?” he asked, hand hovering over the _Play_ button to start the movie.

Gilbert considered the frozen image on the screen. The movie had switched to a different set of characters and he had no idea who they were or what their plot was supposed to be. He sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “I can’t focus on zhis movie.”

“Do you want to do something else, instead? We can watch a different movie or play a game or something.”

“Mm,” Gilbert hummed thoughtfully, moving his fingers in the fabric of Matthew’s hoody. “I don’t know. Just sit quietly for a bit? I like just sitting vizh you.”

Matthew pulled his hand back and shifted on the futon, turning into Gilbert and resting comfortably against him. “Okay.” He smiled softly, looking up at the older boy through his bangs. “I like sitting with you, too.”

Silent, they looked at each other, warm and comfortable and happy. Just sitting there, as simple as it was, being together and happy and safe, made Gilbert’s chest feel like it might burst.

“Mattzhew.”

“Hm?”

“I,” he paused, swallowed, felt his heart strain to outgrow his ribcage, “I really, really like you. You make me happier zhan anyzhing.”

Matthew looked up at him, his pale cheeks a fragile, pretty pink. “Kiss me,” he commanded softly after a moment, blushing a little more.

His entire body was flooded with yearning. There was nothing in the universe he wanted more in that moment than to kiss Matthew Williams.

Gilbert ghosted his fingers over the other male’s cheek, felt the heat coloring his skin. “You’re perfect,” he breathed, red eyes meeting violet. They were an amazing hue, especially this close up. So much closer to purple than blue, dark and deep and mesmerizing.

“Gil,” Matthew’s tone was whining, almost a plea; he shifted imperceptibly closer to the older boy, his hands coming to rest on his chest, fingers curling into his shirt.

It didn’t feel like he was breathing, didn’t feel like anything was real except for him and Matthew and the way his cheeks flushed and those tiny creases between his eyebrows because he hadn’t been kissed yet. Perfect. What else could he do, but cup Matthew’s cheek in his hand and kiss him?

As soon as their lips met, Matthew’s fingers relaxed their hold on Gilbert’s shirt, and his shoulders fell with a happy sigh. It was soft, slow, the patient melding of lips and tongues, hands sliding over bodies. Matt’s fingers found their way under Gilbert’s shirt, cold enough to draw a shiver from the heated flesh. They traced, following the dips and curves, the hard lines of Gilbert’s hips, stomach, and chest.

They separated, breathless; Gilbert’s shirt was gone a few seconds later. Leaning close, Matt splayed his hands over the other boy’s pale chest and rested there, tucking his face towards Gil’s neck. He kissed, lips just brushing the skin right under the corner of his jaw. Gilbert tilted his head, exposing more of his neck as Matthew continued to drop kisses there, so soft and light they almost tickled.

Sighing, Gilbert rested his hands on Matthew’s ribcage and slid them down to his hips, pausing there as the motion made the smaller male arch against him. The fabric of his hoody was soft on Gilbert’s skin, but he still would rather there was less clothing between them.

“Matt,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to distract the blond to the point of stopping, as he gripped the hoody, “can I?”

He never had, before. They were going slowly. They were being deliberate and easy about things. No rushing, no thoughtless actions, no regrets. Steady and comfortable, always asking first, like now.

A longer, thoughtful kiss was pressed to his throat, then Matthew drew away, sitting up enough to offer a smile. Together, they pulled his hoody off over his head, leaving him in a plain long-sleeved navy shirt. Still too much clothing for Gilbert’s liking, but he didn’t push it, merely wrapped his arms around the blond’s waist and pulled him close again. Matthew squirmed against him.

“Hold on,” he pushed at Gilbert’s chest until the albino released him, sitting up and turning to face him fully. With his hands on the older boy’s shoulders to steady himself, Matthew swung one leg over until he was straddling Gilbert, his cheeks turning a dark, embarrassed red. “Is this okay?”

It was very, very okay.

Gilbert smiled and settled his hands on Matthew’s thighs, leaning up to kiss him softly. “Yep.” The hands on his shoulders slid down to his chest again and Matthew pressed close to him, returning the kiss with more energy than they’d shared before. Without the hoody in the way, it was easier to feel his body, the slender, flat shape of his torso against his own. Gilbert ran his hands up and down Matthew’s thighs, squeezing just a little. The blond shifted forward, arching his stomach and pressing his hips down against Gilbert’s. Immediately, his hands slipped around to cup Matt’s ass and gave it a firm squeeze, palming the soft flesh through his jeans.

Mathew broke the kiss with a soft moan, his eyelids fluttering as he rocked his hips back into Gilbert’s hands. It was a beautiful sight.

Squeezing and pulling to bring Matt’s hips back against his own, Gil set to the task of kissing the blond’s neck. He wasn’t as soft as Matt had been, instead leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that made Matthew tremble against him.

“Gilbert…”

“Matt,” he spoke against the Canadian’s skin, “can I give you a hickey?” He never had before, and he really, really wanted to.

Matthew swallowed hard and licked his lips, mouth dry suddenly. “I…won’t someone see?”

Not allowing himself to be disappointed yet, Gilbert nuzzled into his boyfriend’s neck. “ _Nein,_ your hoody vill cover it. But I vouldn’t mind people seeing.” He kissed just below Matthew’s ear, resisting the urge to squeeze his ass or pull his hips again. “Ve’re dating. Vhy vould it matter if anyvone saw?”

Fumbling and flustered, Matthew was glad Gilbert couldn’t see his face as he chewed on his lip. “Well, I just…it’d be…embarrassing.”

“I von’t do it if you don’t vant me to, Mattzhew.” This time, he couldn’t keep from sounding a little sad.

“I want you to,” Matt was quick to respond, leaning back now so he could look into his boyfriend’s eyes, “I do, Gilbert. I…like the idea of you biting me.” His face burned with embarrassment to say it, but he didn’t let himself look away. “Really, I do, I’m sorry, I just….you know….” he trailed off, not entirely sure how to phrase it, but hoping Gilbert would understand anyway.

The older boy didn’t seem to be catching on. “You’re….not ready?”

Matthew shook his head; he was starting to wish he still had his hoody on. “It’s not something I ever really considered safe.”

Gilbert wasn’t entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, either. “Safe?”

“You know,” Matthew sat back, putting several inches of space between them, save for the fact he was still sitting in Gil’s lap, “where I grew up, it wasn’t exactly safe to be…me. So any evidence of it was dangerous. I guess I’m just still stuck in that mindset. And since I’ll be going home for break soon, it could still be a bad idea.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought of that. He knew Matthew was shy, obviously, and he knew he’d been bullied, but he hadn’t taken that into account with how slowly the blond was willing to go with their new relationship. “Maybe I shouldn’t, zhen.”

The blond in his lap chewed his lip, his eyebrows drawing together slightly as he thought. “I…guess it would be okay if it was somewhere no one would see. Can’t be evidence if no one knows about it, right?”

Gilbert smiled. “Right.” His smile was returned before Matthew took a deep breath, his eyes closing momentarily.

“Okay.” He leaned forward and kissed the other boy again, softly, wrapping his arms around Gilbert’s neck this time to hold himself close.

Patient, the older boy kissed back just as gently, letting his hands rest on Matthew’s waist. Whatever the blond decided, he didn’t want to push too far or make a move without permission, so he waited and enjoyed the kiss, enjoyed the warmth of Matthew in his lap and against his chest, the soft pressure of his mouth. It was nice, this kissing, and he smiled when Matt pulled back enough to look into his eyes, their foreheads pressed together.

“Gil?”

“ _Ja?_ ”

Matthew’s cheeks were turning red again. “Take my shirt off.”

He blinked once, surprised—Matt had never asked him to do that before. “Sure, Mattie.”

They separated once again, this time with Matthew taking his glasses off and carefully setting them aside before lifting his arms over his head. Gilbert was careful in gripping the bottom hem of his boyfriend’s shirt, and even more careful in pulling it up and off, worried it would catch on his ears or face and hurt him. When at last he was free and the garment had been tossed aside, Matthew offered a small, shy smile and resisted the urge to wrap his arms around himself protectively.

Quiet, Gilbert looked him over before smiling and kissing his cheek. “You’re beautiful, Mattzhew.”

The only response he got was a flustered squeak before Matt was hiding his face in Gilbert’s neck, which made the older boy laugh quietly.

“You are,” he assured, hugging the Canadian to his chest. “I’d have to be blind not to see it.”

Matthew only buried his face farther into Gilbert’s neck. The albino hummed softly, running his hands up and down the other’s back, enjoying the softness of Matt’s pale skin. He kissed the shoulder that was exposed to him, felt the shiver that ran through his shy companion.

“Here?” he asked softly, and kissed the spot again.

Without pulling away, Matthew shifted against him and nodded.

Gilbert dropped one more kiss before he bit, gently and sucked, his hands rubbing comforting circles on the other boy’s back.

“Mm…”

It was the softest moan he’d ever heard in his life, but somehow that didn’t surprise him. He would have been more shocked if Matthew had turned out to be loud.

“Gilbert…”

The blond was shifting again, pressing closer, his spine curving inwards to press his stomach and chest against Gilbert’s. He let his hands fall down to Matthew’s backside and bit again, a little harder this time, catching a little more skin as his hands squeezed.

“Ah!” The shoulder twitched, but didn’t pull away; he felt a hand against the back of his head, fingers buried in his hair. “Gil...”

He pulled back, sucking to pull the skin before letting it slip from his teeth, then admired the dark bruise already beginning to form. “Hm?”

Matthew was breathless. “Do that again.”

With a chuckle, Gilbert nodded and shifted down against the futon, kissing over Matt’s pale skin as he went so the blond would know where he planned on biting next. It made him shiver to feel breath and lips trailing down from the still-a-little-painful hickey he’d just been given, but Matt didn’t dare pull away. The last thing he wanted was to put space between himself and Gilbert, to end what they’d only just begun.

Teeth catching over his collarbone pulled a gasp from him and he closed his eyes, letting his head tilt back so Gilbert would have more room to bite and suck as he pleased. It was an odd, painful, wonderful sensation, being marked like this. The touch of teeth sent excited shivers down his spine and into his stomach. He’d never had a hickey before—he wanted Gilbert to cover him in them.

Sighing happily, Matthew stroked his fingers through the other’s white hair as the bite turned to kisses once more; this hickey would be smaller than the one on his shoulder.

“I like zhe sounds you make,” Gilbert murmured against his skin before nipping the other side of Matthew’s neck.

The blond tensed. “Don’t,” he warned, and Gil kissed the spot.

“I von’t. Zhat von’t leave a mark. Your neck is just….too pretty to ignore.”

Well, that made Matthew blush even more than getting the hickeys had, and he swallowed hard. “Oh….thank you.”

“ _Bitte._ ”

Then the hands on his backside were moving, slipping around to his hips and pushing him back. Reluctant, Matthew allowed himself to be moved, unhappy about the space between them; it was cold with Gilbert’s body heat. His dissatisfaction only lasted for a couple of seconds, before the feeling of a hot, wet tongue dragging over his nipple nearly made him cry out. He bit down on his lip and put a hand over his mouth, muffling the sound, only to hear Gilbert laughing quietly.

“You’re so sensitive,” the older boy teased, letting his breath drift against the wetted skin. “It’s adorable.”

Cautious, Matthew dropped his hand and let go of his lip, tonguing it gingerly to make sure it wasn’t damaged. “It’s not like I’ve ever done this before,” he defended, embarrassed, but Gilbert only shook his head.

“I know, Mattie. It’s not a bad zhing. I’m…glad to be zhe first vone to do zhis to you. It’s special.”

Relaxing now and smiling fondly, Matthew lifted Gilbert’s chin so that their eyes met. “I’m glad it’s you, too.” Then he kissed him, firmly, before pulling away and giving his best mischievous grin. “And I like the hickeys.”

One of Gilbert’s eyebrows lifted. “ _Ja?_ ”

His grin widened and Matthew nodded, imitating Gilbert’s accent. “ _Ja._ ”

That had the albino laughing again, though he was quickly interrupted by another kiss. To his surprise, Matthew caught his lip in his teeth after just a few seconds, not painfully, but enough to tug just a little, before sitting back and pressing their foreheads together.

“Give me more of them, Gilbert,” he commanded softly, just a little out of breath, and Gilbert felt a rush of heat go through his body.

That was hot.

“Vhatever you vant, Mattie.” Ducking, he focused his attention on Matthew’s nipple again and reveled in the low moan it earned him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now _Visible to Me_ is all caught up to its current chapter! Updates will be slower from now on, as expected. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy what comes next!


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